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SOCRATES. 



LONDON: PBINTED BY 

SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE 

AND PABLIAMENT STEEET 






SOCRATES 

AND THE SOCRATTC SCHOOLS. 



TRANSLATED FROM f ^SE GERMAN OF 

DR. EKzELLER 

PROFESSOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF HEIDELBERG l"""**^ 

w' BY ^\ ' 

OSWALD L REICHEL, B.C.L. & M.A. 

VICE-PRINCIPAL OF CUDDESDEN COLLEGE. 



CANCELED 



LONDON : 

LONG-MANS, GREEN, AND CO. 

1868. 



QMS 



Tranh er 

IS. 



Oc 16 1942 

Accessions vis r>n 
TheLBR 



1 /*?£ 



PKEFACE. 



The following pages on Socrates and the Socratic 
ools are intended to offer to the English reader 
part of Dr. Zeller's work, entitled ' Die Philo- 
hie der Grriechen,' which treats of Socrates and 
imperfect Socratic Schools. This part has been 
chosen, in preference to any other, in the hope of 
supplying an introductory volume to the real philoso- 
phy of Greece, as it found expression in the complete 
systems of Plato and Aristotle. The person of So- 
crates, too, is so much the Sphinx of philosophy that 
any contribution from foreign sources which throws 
light on his life and his surroundings is likely to 
excite general interest. 

The aim of the translator has been to adhere to the 
substance of Dr. Zeller's work, without necessarily 
adopting his language. In some parts the idea of 
a close translation has been followed, whilst in 
other parts considerable freedom of expression has 
been allowed; the invariable design being to repro- 
duce the substance of Dr. Zeller's teaching in an 



vi PRE! ACE. 

intelligible form, avoiding as far as possible all 
technicalities and unnecessary abstractions. The 
writer is aware how imperfectly he has been able to 
realise his own standard of excellence; but he believes 
that there is a large class of students who find it 
difficult to understand the work of Dr. Zeller in the 
original, and who will therefore accept with gentle 
criticism even an imperfect attempt. 

The thanks of the writer are due to the Eev. Walter 
Mooney Hatch, of New College, and to the Eev. Henry 
J. Graham of Grarsington, for assistance in preparing 
the manuscript for the press.] 

OXHEY ElSE, NEAR WATFOED I 

January, 1868. 



•CONTENTS. 



PAET I. 

THE GENERAL STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 



CHAPTEE I. 

THE INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT OF GREECE IN THE 
FIFTH CENTURY, B.C. 

PAGE 

Introduction. The problem proposed to philosophy . 2 

A. The problem solved by political circumstances — 

1. Political unsettledness .... 2 

2. Athens a centre of union ... . . 3 

B. The problem solved by literature — 

1. The Tragedians. JEschylus — Sophocles — Euri- 

pides ..... 

2. Didactic Poetry. Simonides — Bacchylides — Piu 

dar ..... 

3. The Historians. Herodotus — Thucydides . 

4. Comedy. Aristophanes 



C. The problem solved by new forms of religion 



19 
22 
26 

28 



Vlll 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER II. 

CHARACTER AND PROGRESS OF GREEK PHILOSOPHY IN 
FIFTH CENTURY, B.C. 



A. Distinction of Socratic from pre-Socratic Philosophy 

1. Knowledge substituted for tradition 

2. Study of conceptions substituted for study of 

nature ..... 

B. Importance of the doctrine of conceptions 

1. Definition of a conception . 

2. Theory of conceptions expanded 

C. Distinction of Socratic from post- Aristotelian Philosophy 

1. Knowledge believed to be possible . 

2. Morality not pursued independently 

3. Less subjectivity attaching to Socratic Philosophy 

D. The Socratic Philosophy developed — 

1. Socrates ..... 

2. Plato ..... 

3. Aristotle ..... 

4. Difficulty caused by Socratic Schools 



THE 



PAGE 

32 
34 



35 
36 
37 
38 

40 
41 

42 

43 
44. 
45 
45 



PAET II. 

SOCBATES. 



CHAPTER III. 
THE LIFE OF SOCRATES. 



A. Youth and early training 

B. Active life 



48 
54 



CONTENTS. 



IX 



CHAPTER IV. 
THE CHARACTER OF SOCRATES. 

A. Greatness of the character of Socrates 

B. Influence of Greece on his character 

C. Prominent features in his character 

D. The haifxoviov 

1. Palse views of the daifj.6viov 

2. Schleiermacher's view 

3. The dai/j.oviov not conscience 

4. Not a general conviction of a divine calling 

5. Correct view of the hai^oviov 



PA&U 

63 
66 
69 
72 
7S 
75 
77 
78 
79 



CHAPTER V. 

SOURCES AND CHARACTERISTICS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
OF SOCRATES. 

A. Xenophon and Plato considered as authorities 

B. General point of view of Socrates 

C. Theory of knowledge of conceptions considered 

D. Moral value of this theory 

E. Its subjective character . 

CHAPTER VI. 
THE PHILOSOPHICAL METHOD OF SOCRATES. 

A. Knowledge of ignorance the first step in self-knowledge . 

B. Search for knowledge the second step — Eros and 

Irony ...... 

C. Formation of conceptions the third step 

CHAPTER VII. 
SUBSTANCE OF THE TEACHING OF SOCRATES — ETHICS. 

A. The subject-matter restricted to Ethics . 

B. Virtue is knowledge — the leading thought of the 

Socratic Ethics ..... 



82 
86 
89 
92 



100 

103 
106 



112 

118 



x CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

C. The Good and Eudaemonism — 

1. Theoretically Virtue is knowledge about the Good . 123 

2. Practically the Good determined by custom or 

utility . • . . . .124 

3. Superficial character of the view glossed over . 126 

D. Particular Moral Eelations — 

1. Personal independence . . .130 

2. Friendship . . . . . .132 

3. The State . . . . . .135 

4. Universal philanthropy . . . .139 



CHAPTER YIIL 

SUBSTANCE OF THE TEACHING OF SOCRATES, CONTINUED 

NATURE — GOD MAN. 

A. View of Nature — 

1 . Nature a system of means subordinated to ends . 141 

2. Value of this theory considered . . .144 

B. Notion of God and the Worship of God — 

1. Language about the Gods taken from popular use . 144 

2. God conceived as the Reason of the world . . 145 

3. The Forethought of God . . . .146 

4. The Worship of God . . . .147 

C. Dignity and Immortality of man . . . .147 



CHAPTER IX. 
XENOPHON AND PLATO. SOCRATES AND THE SOPHISTS. 

A. Value of Xenophon as an authority — 

1. Xenophon in harmony with Plato and Aristotle . 150 

2. Schleiermacher's objections refuted . . 152 

B. Importance of Socrates for the age in which he lived — 

1. Value attaching to his method . . . 154 

2. Interest attaching to the object pursued . . 155 

C. Relation of Socrates to the Sophists . . .156 



CONTENTS. 



XI 



CHAPTER X. 



THE TRAGIC END OF SOCRATES. 



Circumstances connected with his trial and death — 

1. The Accusation 

2. The Defence 

3. The Sentence 

4. His Death . 

Causes which led to his sentence 

1. The Sophists innocent 

2. Personal animosity only partially the cause 

3. Political party-feeling only partially involved 

4. The teaching of Socrates generally believed to be 

dangerous .... 

Justification of the sentence 

1. Unfounded charges brought against Socrates 

2. The views of Socrates subversive of old views of 

authority — political life — religion 

3. Relation borne by his views to cotemporary views 

4. Result of his death .... 



161 
164 
166 
167 
169 
169 
172 
177 

180 
186 
187 

192 
197 
201 



PAET III. 

THE IMPERFECT FOLLOWERS OF SOCRATES. 



CHAPTER XI. 

THE SCHOOL OF SOCRATES — POPULAR PHILOSOPHY. 
XENOPHON — .ESCHINES- 

A. School of Socrates . . . 

B. Xenophon ...... 

C. iEschines ...... 

D. Simmias and Cebes ..... 



202 
204 
208 
209 



Xll 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XII. 



THE MEGARIAN AND THE ELEAN-ERETRIAN SCHOOLS. 



The Megarians — 








A. History of the School 




212 


B. Their Doctrine 






217 


1 . Being and Becoming 






219 


2. The Good . 


. 




222 


C. Eristic 


. 




225 


1. Euclid 


, 




226 


2. Eubulides . 






228 


3. Alexinus 


. 




228 


4. Diodorus on Motion — Destruction — the Possible . 


229 


5. Philo. The Possible — Hypothetical sentences — 




Meaning of words 




233 


6. Stilpo. Subject and Predicate — the G-ood 


— Cynic 




Morality 


. 




234 



The Elean-Eretrian School. 

A. History of the School — 

1. The School at Elis . 

2. The School at Eretria 

B. Doctrine of the School . 



237 

238 

239 



CHAPTER XIII. 
THE CYNICS. 

A. History of the Cynics 

B. Teaching of the Cynics . 

1. Depreciation of theoretical knowledge 

2. Limits to this depreciation . 

3. Nominalism 

4. Denial of contradiction 



242 
247 
247 
249 
251 
255 



CONTEXTS. 



C. Cynic theory of Morality — 

1. Negative conditions — Good and Evil 

2. Positive side — Virtue 

3. Wisdom and Folly .... 

D. Practical results of Cynic teaching 

1. Eenunciation of Self 

2. [Renunciation of Society. Family Life — Civil Life 

— Modesty .... 

3. Eenunciation of Eeligion . 

E. Cvnic influence on the world 



256 
263 
266 

267 
268 

272 
278 

281 





CHAPTEE XIV. 






THE CYRENAICS. 




A, 


History of the Cyrenaics . 


287 


B. 


Teaching of the Cyrenaics 


293 




1. General position .... 


294 




2. Feelings the snbject of knowledge . 


296 




3. Pleasure and pain .... 


300 




4. The Highest Good .... 


302 




5. Modified form of the extreme view . 


304 


C. 


Practical Life of the Cyrenaics . 


308 


D. 


Eelation of their teaching to Socrates 


316 




1. Eelation of their philosophy 


316 




2. Eelation of their moral teaching 


318 




3. Eelation of their political views 


320 




4. Aristippns further removed from Socrates thai 


L 




Antisthenes .... 


320 




5. Genuine Socratic teaching . 


321 


E. 


The later Cyrenaics .... 


323 




1. Theodoras ..... 


323 




2. Hegesias ..... 


326 




3. Anniceris ..... 


328 



xiv COXTJEXTS. 

CHAPTER XV. 
RETROSPECT. 

PAGE 

A. Inconsistencies of the imperfect Socratic Schools . 332 

B. These Schools more closely related to Socrates than to 

the Sophists — 

1. Megarians and Cynics . . . .333 

2. Aristippus ...... 334 

C. Importance of these Schools — 

1. As settling the problems for subsequent philo- 

sophy ...... 335 

2. As preparing the way for the post- Aristotelian 

systems . . . . .336 

3. As themselves representing the spirit of their age . 337 



PAET I. 

THE GENERAL STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 



CHAPTEE I. 



THE INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT OF GREECE IN 
THE FIFTH CENTURY. 

The intellectual life of Greece had reached a point Chap. 

towards the close of the fifth century, in which '_ 

the only alternatives open to it were either to give 
up science altogether, or to attempt a thorough 
transformation of it on a new basis. The older 
schools were not indeed wholly extinct; but all 
belief in the systems taught had been practically 
undermined, and a general disposition to doubt had 
set in. Following the practice of the Sophists, men 
had begun to call everything into question — to attack 
or defend with equal readiness every opinion. Faith in 
the aim of human ideas, or in the validity of moral 
laws, had wholly disappeared. Natural philosophy, 
on which the attention of thinkers had been en- 
grossed for upwards of a century and a half, had now 
become distasteful ; and, in tine, scientific enquiry 
had been supplanted by a merely superficial culture 

B 



STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 



Chap. 
I. 



Problem 
proposed to 
philosophy 
in the fifth 
century. 



A. The 

problem 
solved by 
political 
events. 

(l)-Po- 

litical un- 



of thought and language, and by the acquisition of 
such accomplishments only as were likely to serve 
the purposes of social life. 

This state of things was, however, naturally calcu- 
lated to lead men to search after a new method of 
knowledge — one which would avoid the defects and 
one-sidedness of previous systems, by a more rigorous 
treatment of the questions raised. The possibility of 
a new method had been indirectly pointed out by 
the logical inconsistencies of previous speculation, 
and the instruments for scientific enquiry had been 
sharpened by eristic quibbles and subtleties, and 
ample material for the erection of a new structure 
might now be gained from the ruins of those that 
had preceded it. Moreover, the practical effect of 
the Sophistic tendencies had been, to open up a 
new field of enquiry, which gave promise of a rich 
harvest for speculative enquiry. The question now 
proposed to Greek philosophy was, whether a creative 
genius would arise to make use of the material 
prepared, and to direct thought into a new channel. 
It was at this crisis that Socrates appeared. 

The question depended greatly on the course 
which political circumstances, moral life, and general 
culture had taken. The connection between philo- 
sophy and the conditions of social life, at all times 
intrinsic, had been brought out by the Sophists 
with striking clearness. In its political character, 
too, Greece had undergone changes of the most 
startling kind. Never has a nation had a more 
rapid or more brilliant career of military glory in 



ILLUSTRATED BY POLITICS. 

union with high culture than had the Greeks. Yet Chap. 
never has national decay been more rapid or more '_ 



complete. The achievements of the Persian war, 
the rich profusion of brilliant art of the time of 
Pericles, were followed immediately by an internal 
conflict, which wasted the strength and prosperity 
of the free cities of Greece in unhallowed domestic 
quarrels. In the course of this conflict, the inde- 
pendence which Greece had so hardly won, was 
hopelessly lost, her freedom undermined, her moral 
instincts corrupted, and her reputation irretrievably 
ruined. A progress which elsewhere it would have 
required centuries to make, had been worked out 
within a few generations. When the pulse of 
national life beat so fast, the general spirit was sure 
to be exposed to rapid and marked changes; and 
where so much that was great had happened in so 
short a time, a rich growth of ideas was sure to 
spring up, awaiting only the magic touch of skill to 
form themselves into scientific systems. 

The position assumed by Athens since the close (2) Athens ^ 
of the Persian war, was of the greatest importance un ion and 
for the future of Philosophy. During their recent stability. 
struggles the consciousness of their common connec- 
tion had dawned upon the Hellenes with a force 
hitherto unparalleled. The representations in myth 
and legend of a Grecian expedition against Troy, 
might seem to be realised in the domain of actual 
history, in Greece standing as a united nation 
opposed to the East. The general headship of this 
body had fallen to the lot of Athens, which in conse- 

B 2 



STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 

Chap. quence became the centre also of the intellectual 

; movement, 'the Prytaneum of the wisdom of 

Greece.' l This circumstance in itself had a most 
beneficial effect on the subsequent development of 
philosophy. Already in the previous schools, an 
impulse might have been noticed prompting them to 
come forth from isolation ; an active interchange of 
thought was carried on between the East and the 
West of Grreece, through the cosmical philosophers 
of the fifth century ; and now that the Sophists were 
travelling from one end to the other of the Grecian 
world, and were carrying to Thessaly the eloquence 
of Sicily, to Sicily the doctrines of Heraclitus, these 
various sources of culture could not fail gradually to 
flow together into one mighty stream. Still it was of 
great importance, that a solid bed should be hollowed 
out for this stream, and that its course should be 
directed towards a fixed end, a result which was 
brought about by the rise of the Attic philosophy. 
When once the various tendencies of pre-Socratic 
enquiry had met and crossed in Athens, as the 
common centre of the Grecian world, it was possible 
for Socrates to set up a more comprehensive view of 
science ; and henceforth Greek philosophy continued 
to be so firmly bound up with Athens, that till the time 
of the New Academy that wonderful city continued 
to be the birthplace of all schools historically impor- 
tant, as it was the last refuge to which they retreated 
before they were finally suppressed by Justinian. 
In attempting, by means of the literary remains 

1 So called by Hippias in Plato, Prot. 337, D. 



ILLUSTRATED BY TRAGEDIANS. 

we possess, to realise to ourselves the change which Chap. 
took place in the Grreek mode of thought during the 



fifth century, and in trying to estimate the worth and B - ^ he 

problem 
extent of the contributions yielded to philosophy by solved by 

the general culture of the time, we must, in the first hterature < 

place, look to the great Athenian tragedians, as they (i) The 

will be found admirably to depict the character of t^tians. 

the respective epochs to which they successively 

belong. In the first of them, iEschylus, there is an ty /^ s " 

° J ? chylus. 

earnestness of purpose, a depth of religious feeling, 
a surpassing power and grandeur, worthy of a man of 
ancient virtue, who had himself taken part in the 
great battles with the Persians. At the same time 
there is something harsh and violent in his poetry, 
a quality which in a time of heroic deeds and sacri- 
fices, of mighty chances and inspiriting results, can- 
not either be softened down or dispensed with. The 
spirit of his tragedies is that of a manly nature, 
undaunted and giant-like, rarely moved by tender- 
ness of feeling, but spell-bound by reverence for 
the gods, the recognition of an unbending moral 
order, and resignation to a destiny from which there 
is no escape. The Titan-like daring of unbridled 
strength, the w T ild fury of the passions and of mad- 
ness, the crushing might of fate, the dread of divine 
vengeance, no poet ever painted more thrillingly 
than iEschylus. Eeverence for the power of the 
Gods is the source of all his convictions, but in 
that power his eye at a glance sees, as it were, the 
monotheism of one almighty power. What Zeus 
says comes to pass; his will is always carried out, 



STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 

Chap. even though it escape the notice of men; ! no mortal 
' can do anything against his will, 2 none can escape 
the decision of heaven, or rather destiny, 3 over which 
Zeus himself is powerless. 4 Man in the face of this 
divine power feels himself weak and frail; his 
thoughts are fleeting as the shadow of smoke ; his 
life is like a picture which a sponge washes out. 5 
Man must not ignore his position, he must learn not 
to overrate what is human, 6 let him not be indignant 
with the Grods when in affliction, 7 let his feelings not 
rise too high ; let him remember that the grain 
ot guilt, planted by pride, grows to a harvest of 
tears, 8 — such is the teaching which, with glowing- 
words, flashes on us in every page of the poet. 

Not even iEschylus, however, was able to grasp this 
idea in its purity, or to rise above the contradiction 
which runs not only through Greek tragedy, but 
through the whole of the Greek view of life. On 
the one hand he gives utterance to the ancient belief 
in the envy of the Grods, which is so closely connected 
with the peculiarity of natural religion ; sickness 
lurks under the rudest health — the wave of fortune, 
when it bears man highest on its crest, breaks on a 
hidden reef — the man on whom fortune smiles, must 
voluntarily renounce a part of what he has, 9 if he 
will escape ruin ; even heaven itself brings guilt on 

1 Suppl. 598; Agamemnon, 5 Fragm. 295; Agam. 1327. 
1485. 6 Niobe, Fr. 155. 

2 Prometh. 550. 7 Frag. 369 (Dindorf ). 

3 Pers. 93 ; Fragm. 299 (Din- 8 Pers. 820. 

dorf). 9 Agamem. 1001 ; compare 

4 Prometh. 511. Herodotus, iii. 40. 



ILLUSTRATED BY TRAGEDIANS. 

men, when it will utterly destroy a family. 1 On the Chap, 

other hand, ^Eschylus never tires of insisting on the '_ 

connection between guilt and punishment. He not 
only paints with telling touches the unavoidable 
nature of divine vengeance, the mischief which fol- 
lows in the wake of pride, the never-dying curse of 
crime, in the old stories of Niobe and Ixion, of Laius 
and the house of Atreus, but in the unexpected 
result of the Persian expedition he sees a higher 
hand, visiting with punishment the self-exaltation of 
the great king, and the insults offered to the gods of 
Greece. Man must suffer 2 according to his deeds. 
God blesses him who lives in piety without guile and 
pride, but vengeance, 3 though slow at first, suddenly 
comes upon the transgressor of right. Dike strikes 
some down with a sudden blow, 4 and slowly crushes 
others. The curse of crime gathers strength from 
generation to generation, just as virtue and happi- 
ness 5 descend on children and children's children. 
The Furies are at work in the concerns of men, 
avenging the fathers' sins on the sons, 6 sucking the 
criminal's life-blood, stealthily clinging to his feet, 
throwing round him the snares of madness, pursuing 
him with punishment down to the shades. 7 Thus 
the thought of divine justice and of implacable 
destiny runs firmly and steadily through all the plays 
of iEschylus. But all the more remarkable on that 
account is the vigour with which he breaks through 

1 Niobe, Fr. 160; blamed by 3 Eumen. 530; Fr. 283. 
Plato, Kep. 380, A. 4 Choeph. 61. 

2 Agam. 1563 ; Cboeph. 309 ; 5 Agam. 750. 6 Eum. 830. 
Fr. 282. 7 Eum. 264, 312. 



8 STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 

Chap. . the fetters of this view of the world. In the 
• » Eumenides, these moral collisions, the play of which 
JEschylus can so well pourtray, 1 are brought to a 
satisfactory issue when the Olympic Goddess of light 
appeases the avenging spirits of Night, and the seve- 
rity of the ancient blood-exacting Justice gives w T ay 
to human kindness. In the Prometheus, natural re- 
ligion as a whole celebrates its moral transfiguration ; 
the zeal of the gods against men is seen to resolve 
itself into mercy ; Zeus himself requires the aid of 
the Wise One, who has felt the whole weight of 
divine wrath because of his kindness to men ; but, 
on the other hand, the unbending disposition of the 
Titan is relaxed, and Zeus' rule of might is changed 

v into a moral government of willing subordination. 
But in reality the history which the poet places in 
the mythical past is that of his own time and of his 
own mind. He was standing on the boundary line 

^between two periods of culture, and the story he tells 
of the mitigation of ancient justice, and of the new 
rule of the Gods, was acted over again in another 
way when the sternness of the race which fought at 
Marathon softened down into the genial beauty which 
characterised the time of Pericles. 
(b) Sopho- This new spirit finds its fullest expression in the 
plays of Sophocles. Although in principle he agrees 
with his predecessor, his tragedies create a very 
different impression. The keynote of his poetry 
is equally reverence for the Gods, whose hand and 
law encompass human life. All things, even mis- 
1 Choeph. 896; Eum. 198,566. 



ILLUSTRATED BY TRAGEDIANS. 

fortune, 1 come from the Gods ; no mortal can with- Chap. 

stand their never decaying power; nothing can 

escape their decree ; 2 no deed and no thought can be 
hid from their eyes ; 3 no one may transgress their 
eternal laws, 4 created as they are by a superhuman 
power. Men, however, are weak and frail, mere 
shadows or dreams, non-existent, and only capable 
of a passing semblance of happiness. 5 No mortal's 
life is free from misfortune, 6 and even the happiest 
man cannot be called happy before his death ; 7 and 
taking all things into account, which the changing 
day brings with it, the number of woes, the rarity 
of good-fortune, the end to which all must come, 
it would be well to repeat the old saying, ' Not 
to have been born is the best lot, and the next 
best is to die as soon as may be.' 8 The highest 
wisdom of life is, therefore, to control our wishes, 
to moderate our desires, to love justice, to fear God, 
to be resigned to fate. Sophocles makes use of the 
example of men who have been hurled from the 
summit of fortune, or who have been ruined by 
recklessness and overbearing, to show that man 
should not exalt himself above what is human, 
for only the modest man is acceptable to the Gods ; 9 
arrogance hurries on to sudden destruction; Zeus 
hates the vaunts of a boasting tongue. 10 Like 

1 Ajax. 1036; Track 1278. 7 (Ed. E. Track 1, 943; Fr. 

2 Antig. 604, 951 ; Fr. 615. 532, 583. 

3 Electra, 657. 8 (Ed. Col. 1215. 

4 (Ed. Eex, 864; Ant. 450. ° Ajax, 127, 758; (Ed. Col. 

5 Ajax, 125; (Ed. E. 1186; 1211 ; Fr. 320, 528. 

Fr. 12, 616, 860. 10 (Ed. E. 873; Ant. 127. 

6 Ant. 611; Fr. 530. 



10 STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 

Chap. iEschylus, Sophocles is full of the thought of 
' divine retribution and of the worth of virtue. He 
knows that uprightness is better than riches, that 
loss is better than unjust gain, that heavy guilt en- 
tails heavy punishment, but that piety and virtue are 
worth more than all things else, and are rewarded 
not only in this world but in the next. 1 He even 
declares that it is more important to please those in 
the next world than those in this. 2 Moreover, he is 
convinced that all wisdom comes from the Gods, and 
that they are always leading to what is right, 3 though 
at the same time men may not cease from learning 
and striving. 4 He bids them to commit their griefs 
to Zeus, who looks down from heaven and arranges 
all things, and to bear what the Grods send with re- 
signation : 5 and in this belief he remains unshaken, 
despite the misfortunes of many good men, and the 
good fortune of many bad ones. 6 

The same thoughts had inspired the poetry of JEs- 
chylus, and yet the spirit of the drama of Sopho- 
cles is very different from his. There is in Sophocles 
a higher artistic perfection, a richer dramatic move- 
ment, a finer painting of the inner life, a more care- 
ful development of actions from character and of 
character from actions, a softer beauty, a clearer and 
more pleasing language, without at all rivalling 
the stormy power, the wild exultation, and the 

1 Fr. 18, 210, 196; Philoc. bablv there is a 6eia ^o?pa. 
1440. 4 Fr. 731, 736. 

2 Ant. 71. 5 Elec. 174; Fr. 523, 862. 

3 Fr. 834, 227, 809, 865; in 6 Fr. 104. 
the unintelligible $ei% fjptpa pro- 



ILLUSTRATED BY TRAGEDIANS. 11 

grand view of history taken by iEschylus. But the Chap. 
moral ground of the two tragedians is not the ' 

same. Both are penetrated with reverence for the 
Gods ; but, in the case of iEschylus, this reverence 
is combined with a dread which has first to be- 
set aside, and with a contradiction, which has to be 
overcome before it can come up to the trustful re- 
signation and the blissful grace of the piety of Sopho- 
cles. The power of fate seems with iEschylus much 
harsher, because it is less called for by the character of 
those whom it reaches : the reign of Zeus is a reign of 
terror, mitigated only by degrees, and the individual 
must perish if the Deity establish too close a relation 
with him. 1 Both celebrate the victory of moral 
order over human self-will; but in iEschylus the 
victory is preceded by severer and more dreadful 
struggles. Moral order is, with him, a tremendous 
power, crushing the refractory ; whereas, with Sopho- 
cles, its work is completed with the quiet certainty 
of a law of nature, and awakens pity for human weak- 
ness rather than terror. That conflict of the old stern 
blood-exacting justice with the new, which is the sub- 
ject of the Eumenides, forms the background of the 
plays of Sophocles, with whom justice is, from the 
very beginning, united with mercy, and in the 
' OEdipus Coloneus ' the most accursed of all mortals 
finds an end in expiation. His heroes too are 
of a different kind to those of his predecessor. In 
^Eschylus moral opposites are so hard, that human 

1 Compare the character of lo in the Prometheus, especially 
v. 887, &c. 



12 STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 

Chap. representatives of them are not adequate to express 
' them ; and thus he brings into the battle-field Zeus 
and the Titans, the daughters of Night and of 
Olympus ; but the tragedy of Sophocles takes place 
entirely in the world of men. The former prefers to 
introduce mighty natures and uncontrolled passions. 
The latter loves to depict what is noble, self-contained, 
tender ; strength is generally placed side by side with 
dignity, and pain with resignation, for which reason 
his female characters are exquisitely true to life. 
iEschylus describes the demoniacal side of woman's 
nature with all its repulsiveness in his Clytsemnestra ; 
Sophocles in his Antigone displays the true woman 
who knows ' how to love but not to hate,' l and 
who by the heroism of her love puts hatred to 
shame. In short the poetry of Sophocles sets before 
us an epoch and a people which has risen to fame 
and power by successful attempts at a happy use of 
its capacities, and which, enjoying its own existence, 
has learned to look on human nature and all that 
belongs to it in a cheerful spirit, to prize its great- 
ness, to mitigate its sufferings by timely recognition, to 
bear its weakness, to control its excesses by custom and 
law. From him the idea may be gathered, as it may 
from no other poet, of a beautiful natural agreement 
between duty and inclination, between freedom and 
order, which constitutes the moral ideal of the Greek 
world. 
(c) EuH- Euripides is only about four or five Olympiads 
later than Sophocles ; but his writings present a 

1 Ant, 523. 



%es. 



ILLUSTRATED BY TRAGEDIANS. 13 

remarkable change in ethical tone and view of life. Chap. 

... I 

Even as an artist Euripides constantly uses calcula- ' 

tion to supply the place of an immediate poetic in- 
spiration, and discriminating reflection in the place 
of a harmonising admiration. By means of particu- 
lar scenes of an exciting and terrifying character, 
by choruses which have often little to do with the 
action of the play, and by rhetorical declamations 
and sayings, he endeavours to produce an effect, 
which might be gained in greater purity and depth 
from the connection of the whole. So too the 
agreement of moral and religious life, which com- 
mended itself so strongly to us in Sophocles, may be 
seen in a state of dissolution in the plays of the 
younger poet. He must not, however, be supposed 
to be deficient in moral maxims and religious 
thoughts. He knows full well that piety and the 
virtue of moderation are the best things for man; 
that he who is mortal must not grow proud in suc- 
cess or despairing in misfortune ; that he can do 
nothing without the Gods ; that in the long run 
the good man succeeds and the bad fails ; that a mo- 
derate good-fortune is preferable to the vicissitudes 
of greatness; 1 that the poor man's fear of the Gods is 
worth more than the pompous sacrifices of many a 
rich one; that virtue and understanding are better 
than wealth and noble birth. 2 He discourses at length 
of the benefits conferred hy the Gods on men, 3 he 
speaks well of their righteous and almighty rule, 4 

1 Bacch. 1139 ; Fr. 77, 80, 257, 3 Suppl. 197. 

305, &c. * Troad. 880; Hel. 1442. 

2 Fr. 329, 53, 254. 



14 STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 

Chap. and he even traces back human guilt to their will. 1 

' But all such expressions, however numerous, do not 

contain the whole of his view of the world, and the 

ethical peculiarity of his poetry is not to be found in 

them. 

Euripides has sufficient appreciation of what is 
great and morally beautiful, to be able to paint it 
when it occurs in a true and telling manner. But 
as he is a student of philosophy, 2 and is related in 
spirit to the better Sophists, he deviates too far from 
the older method of thought, to be able to devote 
himself absolutely and with real conviction to the 
traditional faith and morality. He has sober under- 
standing enough to recognise that many myths are 
improbable and unseemly ; but he has not suffi- 
cient artistic power to rise above this for the sake of 
the ideas they embody, and for their poetic worth. 
The fortunes of men do not seem to him to be the 
immediate revelation of a higher power, but rather 
the result of natural cause, of calculation, of caprice, 
and of chance. Even moral principles appear waver- 
ing, and though on the whole they are looked upon 
as binding, still the poet cannot conceal from him- 
self that much may be said for an immoral course 
of conduct. The sublime poetic view of the world, 
the half-moral, half-religious way of looking at hu- 
~ man life, has been succeeded by a sceptical tone, a 

1 Hippol. 1427. Restit. i. 109, 118. Anaxagoras, 

2 Compare with reference to however, does not, like Euripides, 
the views of Anaxagoras, which make Earth arid Ether, but Air 
are especially to be found in the and Ether come first after the 
Fragments, Hartung's Euripides original mixing of all things. 



ILLUSTRATED BY TRAGEDIANS. 15 

critical reflection, and a kind of natural positivism. Chap. 
iEschylus brought the Eumenides, in the uncouth ' 

guise of antiquity, yet with a startling effect on to the 
stage ; whereas the Electra of Euripides says to her 
brother, or rather the poet himself says, that the 
Furies are mere offsprings of the imagination. 1 While 
Iphigeneia is preparing to sacrifice the captives, she 
reflects that the goddess herself cannot possibly re- 
quire this sacrifice, and that the story of the feast of 
Tantalus is a fable. 2 Similarly in the Electra 3 the 
chorus raises doubts as to the miracle of the change 
in the course of the sun. In the Troades, 4 Hecuba 
calls in question the story of the judgment of Paris, 
and explains the assistance of Aphrodite in carrying 
off Helen to mean the attractive beauty of Paris. In 
the BacchaB, 5 Teiresias gives an insipid, half-natural 
explanation of the birth of Bacchus. 6 The Grods, says 
Euripides, 7 have no needs, and therefore the stories 
which impute to them human passions cannot pos- 
sibly be true. Even the general notions of divine 
punishment give him offence. Punishment must 
not be looked upon as a visitation for particular acts, 
but as a general law. 8 In other cases he throws 
blame on the actions and commands of the Grods — 
a blame too which, for the most part, is not called 
for by the development of the characters, and en- 
tails no punishment in the sequel ; and it must, 
therefore, necessarily appear as the poet's own con- 

1 Orest. 248, 387. 5 265. 

2 Iphi. Taur. 372. 6 Frag. 209. 

3 734. 7 Here. Fur. 1328. 

4 963. 8 Fr. 508. 



16 STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 

Chap. viction ; l and from this he at one time concludes, 

: that man need not disturb himself because of his 

faults, since the Gods commit the same; at another 
time, that the stories about the Grods cannot be 
true. 2 

He attaches an equally slight importance to pro- 
phetic art, and makes use of an opportunity in the 
Helen, 3 to prove, on highly rationalistic grounds, 
that it is lying and deceit. 4 Belief in the Grods is, 
however, thoroughly interwoven with these myths and 
rites. No wonder, then, that the poet often makes 
his heroes utter statements about the existence of 
the Grods, which would sound much better from the 
mouth of Protagoras, than from men and women of 
the mythical past : as, for instance, when Talthybius 
raises the question and asks whether there are Grods, 
or whether Chance guides all things ; 5 or when an- 
other is made to doubt the existence of the Grods, 6 
because of the unjust distribution of good and bad 
fortune. Hecuba in her prayer wonders what the 
deity really is, whether Zeus, or natural necessity, or 
the spirit of mortal beings ; 7 Hercules and Clyteem- 
nestra leave it an open question, whether there are 
Grods, and who Zeus is ; 8 and even the Ether is ex- 
plained to be Grod. 9 These utterances prove at least 

1 Io, 448, 1315; Elect. 1298; with Euripides. 
Orest. 277. 5 Hel. 484. 

2 Here. Fur. 1301. 6 Fr. 288; compare Fr. 892. 
» 743. 7 Troad. 877. 

4 Sophocles, Antig. 1033, 8 Here. Fur. 1250; Iph. Aul. 

makes Cleon attack the prophet, 1034; Orestes, 410. 

but his accusations are refuted 9 Fr. 935, 869. 
by the sequel. But not so 



ILLUSTRATED BY TRAGEDIANS, 17 

that Euripides had wandered far away from the Chap. 
ancient faith, but though we allow that he utters his ' 

own belief when he asserts, that only a fool can deny 
the deity and believe the false pretensions of philo- 
sophy about what is hidden, 1 still in general he 
appears to assume a sceptical and critical attitude 
towards the popular faith. Probably he allowed 
that there was a God, but he certainly attributed no 
value to the mythical notions about the (rods; he 
believed that the essence of &od could not be known, 
and he presupposed the oneness of the divine nature 
either by glossing over or by plainly denying the 
ruling Pantheism. 2 

In a similar way he expresses himself about the 
popular ideas on the future state. Naturally 
enough, he makes use of them when it is in his 
power, but then he also says, that we know not 
how it is with another life, we only follow an un- 
foimded opinion. In several places he gives utter- 
ance to an opinion 3 which refers partly to Orphic 
and Pythagorean traditions, and partly to the teach- 
ing of Anaxagoras and Archilaus, that the spirit re- 
turns at death to the ether from which it came ; 4 and 
apparently leaves it an undecided question, whether 
at all, or to what extent, consciousness belongs to this 
soul when united with the ether. 5 Nor is the sphere 



1 Fr. 905. 981. soul of the dead does not survive, 

2 Fr. 804. but vet it has an eternal con- 

3 Hippolyt. 192. scionsness after it has united with 

4 Suppl. 532 ; Hel. 1012 ; Fr. the immortal Ether. From this 
836. he deduces the belief in retribu- 

5 He says in the Helen : The tion after death, and he asks (Fr. 

C 



18 STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 

Chap. of morals untouched by these doubts ; a fact which 
• may be gathered from the general character of his 
tragedies rather than from particular statements, 
though the latter sufficed to give offence to his con- 
temporaries. 1 The tragic motives of Euripides, like 
those which iEschylus and Sophocles had so deeply 
sounded, are not to be sought in the collision of moral 
forces, but in personal passions, complications and 
experiences. His heroes have not that ideal character 
which makes them types of a whole class, and there- 
fore, the highest necessity which we admired before 
is not active in the development of the Euripidean 
drama, but the solution of the plot is visibly brought 
about by the appearance of Grods, or by some human 
device. Thus a tragedian, so rich in poetic beauties, 
so successful in painting individual characters, so 
experienced in knowledge of human life and human 
frailty, so telling in many of his speeches and acts, 
must yet be said to have come down from the moral 
and artistic height of his two great predecessors, in 
order to introduce into tragedy a method of inward 
reflection, of studied effect, and of artificial language, 
like that which was followed by the delicate neatness 
of Agatho, and the didactic pretensions of Critias. 
(2) Didac- Cotemporary with JEschylus, or even a little 
tic poetry. J3 e f ore him, lived the poets Epicharmus, Simonides, 
and Pindar, and soon after him Bacchylides. It 

639), whether on the whole life the Heraclid. 591, he leaves it 

is not death and death life. On an open question whether the 

the other hand in the Troades, 638, dead have any feelings, 

he says, the dead man is like an l As for instance : t\ yAacro-' 

unborn child, feelingless ; and in o,uayiOKe, &c. Hippol. 607. 



ILLUSTRATED BY DIDACTIC POETRY. 19 

belongs to a former period to shew what a rational Chap. 



I. 



view of the world is taken by Epicharmus, and how 
pure are his moral and theological notions, thanks 
to his connection with philosophy, Simonides, too, 0) Smo- 

711CL6S 

seems on the whole, so far as his views can be gath- 
ered from scattered fragments, to uphold the cause 
of moderation and self-restraint ; the result, however, 
of recognising human weakness and frailty. Our life 
is full of sorrows l and troubles ; its fortune is un- 
certain ; it is quickly gone ; even prudence 2 is too 
readily lost by men, and their hardly-won virtue 
is imperfect and unreliable, and changes with cir- 
cumstances. He fares best on whom the Grods bestow 
prosperity. A faultless man must not be looked 
for ; it must be enough to find one righteously dis- 
posed. 3 The art of Simonides is inherited by Bac- 
chylides, who gives utterance to the same feelings, (b) Bac- 
He knows that no one is altogether happy, and that c y es ' 
few are preserved from heavy changes of fortune, 
and breaks out into complaints of others: 'Not to 
have been born were the happiest lot ; ' 4 and hence 
he places the highest wisdom of life in equanimity, 
that is, content with the present, and takes no 
thought for the future. 5 At the same time he is 
convinced that man can discover what is right, and 
that Zeus, the almighty ruler of the world, is not to 
blame for the misfortunes of mortals. 6 

Exactly the same sentiments may be observed (c) Pindar 



1 Fr. 32, 36, 38, 39. 


4 Fr. 1, 2, 3, 21. 


2 Fr. 42. 


5 Fr. 19. 


3 Fr. o. 


6 Fr. 29. 



c 2 



20 STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 

Chap. here as were expressed by the earlier didactic poets, 
' without, however, any noticeable difference in a 
moral point of view. A more peculiar and more 
powerful spirit, and one nearly akin to iEschylus, 
finds utterance in Pindar. The secret of Pindar's 
view of the world, like that of iEschylus, is an 
exalted notion of the Deity, < Grod is the all ; ' l 
nothing is impossible for Him. Zeus governs all 
things according to His will. It is He that bestows 
success or failure. 2 In Him the law, to which both 
Grodsand men must bow, realises itself with a mighty 
power. 3 Even the deeds of men are not hid from 
His all-seeing eyes. 4 Only what is beautiful and 
noble can be attributed to the Gods. He who accuses 
them of human vices cannot escape their punish- 
ment. 5 In contrast with this divine exaltation, man 
occupies a twofold attitude. On the one hand his 
nature is related to that of the Grods — the two races 
come from a single stock; on the other hand his 
power is infinitely different, and neither in body nor 
in mind can we creatures of the day be compared 
with the immortals ; 6 our lot is changeful, and joy 
and sorrow lie near together. 7 True wisdom, there- 
fore, consists in not going beyond the bounds of 

1 Clemens Stromat. y. 610 : 3 Fr. 146. 

Hivdapos . . . avTLKpvs el-nw, 4 01. i. 64 ; Pyth. iii. 28. 

ri Beds ; on rb -nav. It may have 5 01. i. 28. 

been that Pindar used the words 6 Nem. vi. 1. According to 

QebsTo-Kav in the same sense that Frag. 108, the soul, the elBcoAov 

Sophocles said (Trach. 1278) ahdvos, comes from God alone, 

ov5e»> tovtow 07 l fxr] Zeus, to express, and proves its higher nature in 

All depends upon G-od. dreams. 

2 Fr. 119; Pyth. ii. 49, 88; 7 01. ii. 30. 
Nem. x. 29. 



ILLUSTRATED BY DLDACTLC POETRY. 21 

what is human, in looking to the Gods for all that is Chap. 
good, and in being content with, what they bestow. ' 

1 Seek not to be a Grod,' exclaims the poet ; ' what is 
mortal becomes mortals, and he who soars to heaven 
will, like Bellerophon, have a precipitate fall.' l Bless- 
ing and success is only to be had when God points 
the way ; 2 the result of our labour is in His hand, 
according as he is determined by destiny. 3 From 
Grod comes all virtue and knowledge ; 4 and for the 
very reason that it is a gift of Grod, natural talent is 
placed by Pindar far above all acquirements, and the 
creative spirit, to which Deity has imparted Himself, 
above all other spirits, as the eagle of Zeus is above 
the croaking rooks. 5 We must resign ourselves to 
what Grod disposes, and be content with our lot, 
whatever it be. Strive not against Grod ; bear his 
yoke without kicking against the pricks ; adapt your- 
self to. circumstances; seek not what is impossible; 
in all things observe moderation ; beware of envy, 
which strikes the highest most severely. These are the 
counsels of the poet. 6 To give greater weight to his 
moral counsels he not unfrequently appeals to a 
future retribution, of the wicked as well as of the 
good, in doing which he sometimes follows the 
ordinary notions of Tartarus, of Elysium, and the 
islands 7 of the blest, whilst at other times he con- 

1 01. v. 24; Isthm. v. 14; vii. 25, iii. 40. 

42. « Pyth. ii. 34, 88 ; iii. 21, 59, 

2 Pr. 85. 103; xi. 50; Pr. 201. 

3 Pyth. xii. 28. 7 01. ii. 56 ; Pr. 106, 120. 

4 01. ix. 28, 103; Pyth. i. 41 ; Pr. 108 seems only to presuppose 
Pr. 118. the current notions, with this 

5 01. ii. 86, ix. 100 ; Nem. i. difference, that a more intense 



22 STATU OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 

Chap. nects with them a belief in the migration of souls. 1 
' On the whole, the religious and moral point of view 



in Pindar is not different from that of iEschylus, 
although the thought of divine justice is not brought 
out by him with such tragic force. 

(3) Histo- If we would see this view of life as it appears in 
its transitions to a later form, no better example can 

(a) Hero- be selected than Herodotus, the friend of Sophocles. 
In writing his history, Herodotus sometimes allows 
himself to be guided by the notions of olden times. 
He recognises the rule of divine providence in the 
order of nature, 2 and equally clearly in the fortunes 
of men, and especially in punishment, which over- 
takes the guilty, even if he has only indulged a guilt- 
less passion to excess. 3 The popular forms of worship 
are honoured by him, 4 because he knew that every 
nation clings most closely to its own usages, and that 
only a madman can treat them with disdain. 5 He has 
sufficient credulity to relate in good faith several 
miracles and prophecies, 6 and among them some of 
the most extraordinary kind. His piety bears the 
impress of antiquity, in being connected with that 

life is given to souls in Hades 2 Her. iii. 108. 

than was the view of Homer and 3 ii. 120; iv. 205; vi. 84; 

the mass of people. Fr. 109 is viii. 129; vii. 133. 

probably spurious. 4 For instance, he hesitates to 

1 Fr. 110, 01. ii. 68. Accor- utter the names of Egyptian 

ding to the latter passage, in Grods in a context which might 

which Pindar is most explicit, desecrate them, ii. 86, or to speak 

reward or punishment follows in of Egyptian mysteries. = 

Hades. Only a few distinguished 5 iii. 38. 

men are able to return to life, 6 vii. 12, 57; viii. 37, 65; ix. 

and allowed to enjoy the higher 100. Here belong the prophecies 

bliss on the islands of the blessed of Bakis and Musaeus, viii. 77 ; 

by a threefold life of innocence. ix. 43. 



ILLUSTRATED BY HISTORIANS. 23 

fear of divine powers so peculiarly adapted to natural Chap. 
religion, because there the exaltation of the Grods 
above men is not conceived of in all its intensity, but 
regarded in a physical rather than in a moral light. 
Man is not destined to enjoy perfect good fortune; 
his life is exposed to changes innumerable; before 
his death no one can be called happy, and in general 
it is a matter for doubt whether death is not better 
for a man than life. 1 He who by prosperity or self- 
satisfaction rises above the lot of men, is invariably 
the victim of the envy of the Deity, which, jealous of 
its privileges, will not brook a mortal rival. 2 

This is altogether in agreement with the spirit, 
which breathes through the older poetry of Greece. 
But for all that, Herodotus is unable to conceal 
from as the fact that he is a product of an epoch, in " 
which thought has already begun to shake the foun- 
dations of a simple faith. With whatever naivete he 
may tell a number of wonderful stories, there are 
times when he declares a belief in the appearance of 
Gods 3 (which, be it said, pointed to a plain act of 
deception) to be extremely simple, and when he 
refers to an earthquake as the cause of a result attri- 
buted to Poseidon by the Thessalian legend. 4 But 
a rationalistic tendency clearly comes to light when " 
he, by preference, receives mythical explanations in 
the taste of a later Euemerism, and even carries them 
further himself. 5 Add to this that he occasionally 

1 ii. 31. 4 vii. 129. 

2 On the Belov (pdovspdv, conf. i. 2 See the legends of Io and 
32, 34; iii. 40; vii. 10, 5, 46. Europa, i. 1 ; of G-yges, i. 8 ; of 

3 i. 60. the doves of Dodona, ii. 56 ; of 



24 STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 

Chap. expresses the opinion that all men know equally 
' little about the Gods, 1 and it will be patent, how much 
doubt was already encroaching on the ancient faith. 
(h) Thucy- In Thucydides, the next great historian, faith had 
already changed into a natural way of treating history. 
No one will deny the high moral earnestness of his 
writings. His history of the Peloponnesian war in 
its unfinished form has all the effect of a stern 
tragedy. But this effect is brought about purely by 
^historical positivism, without introducing the inter- 
position of the gods to explain events. Thucydides 
knew how indispensable religion was for the public 
good ; his very descriptions show how deeply he 
deplored that his country, not only morally but reli- 
giously, suffered decay ; 2 yet in his pages the rule of 
the deity and of moral order in the world is only 
allowed to be seen by the light of history. Con- 
vinced that human nature is always the same, he 
insists on moral laws by showing in a given case, that 
ruin naturally results from the weakness and the 
passions of men, all of which he knows well and can 
judge impartially. 3 But he nowhere betrays a belief in 
those extraordinary occurrences, in which Herodotus 
saw the hand of God. Where his contemporaries 
fancied they saw the fulfilment of a prophecy, he 
contented himself with sober criticism. 4 To depend on 
-oracles instead of taking active steps, he calls the folly 

Helen, ii. 113-120; of Hercules, 3 iii. 82, 84; and in the de- 

ii. 43, 146. scription of the Sicilian expedi- 

1 ii. 3. tion, its motives and results, vi. 

2 See the well-known passages 15, 24, 30; vii. 75, 87. 

ii. 53; iii. 82. 4 For instance, ii. 17, 54. 



ILLUSTRATED BY HISTORIANS. 25 

of the masses/ and openly expresses his disapproval of Chap. 
the disastrous superstition of Mcias. 2 In the panegyric ' 

of the dead, 3 which is a memorial of his own spirit 
quite as much as of the spirit of the age of Pericles, he 
does not deign to bestow a single word on the mythical 
history of Athens, the hackneyed theme of ancient 
panegyrists ; but instead of it, with a statesmanlike 
disposition, he clings to what is actual, and to prac- 
tical questions. His history is a brilliant evidence of 
manly vigour and high intellectual culture, of a many- 
sided experience of life, of a calm, unimpassioned, 
penetrating, and morally correct view of the world. 
It is a work which fills us with the highest respect 
not only for the writer, but for the whole period, 
which could bring to maturity a genius like that of 
Thucydides. 

At the same time, however, this work contains the 
darker sides of the period concealed within. We 
have only to read the descriptions it gives 4 of the 
confusion of all moral notions in the factious struggles 
of the Peloponnesian war, of the desolation of Athens 
by the plague, of the decline of piety and self- 
sacrifice, of reckless indulgence in selfish passions, to 
be convinced how in that period of might and culture,- 
moral worth had altogether degenerated. To prove 
beyond all question, that along with those outward 
relations all general convictions had been shaken, 
Thucydides puts in the mouth of several of his 
speakers, and particularly of those who represented 

1 v. 103. 3 ii. 35. 

2 vii. 50. 4 ii. 53 ; iii. 82. 



26 STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 

Chap. Athens, naked avowals of the most selfish principles, 
_ which could come only from the lips of some of the 

younger sophists. Popular Athenian speakers and 
ambassadors 1 are made to express themselves on every 
occasion unblushingly, to the effect that all who 
have the power seek to rule, that no one is restrained 
by considerations of justice from pursuing his ad- 
vantage by every means in his power, that the rule 
of the stronger is the universal law of nature, that 
at bottom every one estimates justice and honour by 
his own interests and tastes, and that even the best 
regulated states act on this idea, at least in their 
relations with others. Even those who have to suffer 
from the selfishness of the Athenians, are in the 
end hardly able to blame it. 2 It is thus seen that 
moral and political conditions invariably keep pace 
with the sophistic character of scientific culture. 
(4) The Co- How little other prudent men were deceived about 
medians. j^q (J an g ers which this course of things was bringing 
upon them, and how little they were able to control 
it, or to stand aloof from the spirit of their times, 
Aristopka- may be seen by the example of Aristophanes. This 
poet is an enthusiastic admirer of the good old time, 
with its steady morality, its strict education, its 
military prowess, its orderly and prudent adminis- 
tration. 3 He grows warm and sublime whenever he 
speaks of the days of Marathon ; 4 lashes with im- 
placable satire, now in the form of bantering jest, 



nes. 



1 i. 76; iii. 40; y. 89, 105, 


3 Clouds, 882; Knights, 1316. 


11; vi. 85. 


4 "Wasps, 1071 ; the Achar- 


2 iv. 61. 


nians, 676. 



ILLUSTRATED BY COMEDY. 27 

now in that of bitter earnestness, these new-fangled Chap. 
notions which have forced themselves into the place ' 

of time-honoured institutions — the unbridled demo- 
cracy with its demagogues and sycophants l — the 
empty, effeminate, free-thinking poetry, so faithless 
to its moral idea, so fallen from its artistic height 2 
— the sophistic culture with its unfruitful speculations, 
dangerous alike to faith and morals, which instead 
of steady citizens and sober-minded men, can only 
bring up shameless quibblers, atheistic reasoners, 3 or 
unconscionable perverters of justice. Zeal for what 
is ancient is with him undeniably an affair of indivi- 
dual conviction. This is what may be gathered from 
the earnestness, the warmth, and the classic beauty of 
those passages, which set forth the praise of the olden 
time and its customs; but it is more undeniably mani- 
fested in the general tendency of his comedies: and if 
he justly commends his own courage to us in discharg- 
ing his duty to his city against Cleon, 4 the claim to be 
a noble man fighting for a principle, cannot be fairly 
denied him. 

But Aristophanes, while warmly taking the field 
against the spirit of innovation, at the same time 
not only presupposes this very spirit, but actually 
furthers and, to a certain extent, promotes it in his 
hearers. He lashes the demagogues and sycophants; 
but whilst lashing them he tells us that every place 
is full of them, that democracy has a hundred heads, 

1 Wasps; Clouds, 568. Frogs, 1491. 

2 Frogs; Achar. 39.3. 4 Wasps, 1029, 1284; Peace. 

3 Clouds; Birds, 1282, 1553; 951; Achar. 959. 



28 STATE OF CULTURE ZZV GREECE. 

Chap. ever full of vitality; that the Athenian people, like a 
' childish old man, was always the victim of the most 
impudent of his flatterers ; that the steady men of 
the older generation were just as punctilious about 
judicial proprieties as the estimable citizens were 
about their legal forms; and that the Spartan- aping 
young gentlemen were no less slovenly than the 
demagogues; l that the sovereign people, after Solon's 
constitution had been re-established, continued to 
manage house as wildly as before, and only wanted 
female government to complete the folly. 2 In his 
plays he even indulges in the arts of the dema- 
gogues and sycophants ; he slanders Socrates and 
many others quite as much as any rhetorician could 
have done, and to outbid the statesmen who squan- 
dered the public property in order to bribe the 
the people, he tells the citizens of Athens that if the 
distribution were fairly made 3 they ought to receive 
far more than they did. Even in religious and 
moral reforms he has only bad prospects to shew. 
He praises the ancient moral training, but he says 
at the same time with derision, that little morality 
is to be found amongst his hearers, 4 and the vices 
from which his people suffered appear to him on 
the whole very natural. 5 He brings women on the 
stage to lash their licentiousness; but he depicts 
this licentiousness as so deep and so general, that 
there could be no hope of improvement. He attacks 

1 Wasps ; Birds, 38. 4 Clouds, 1055. 

2 Eccles. v. 456 ; conf. Plato, 5 Compare Birds, 137 ; Frogs, 
Eep. viii. 563, B. 148. 

3 Wasps, 655. 



ILLUSTRATED BY COMEDY. 29 

the philosophers who deny the (rods, but in one of Chap. 
his first comedies he gives us to understand, that * 

belief rested in his time on trembling foundations, 1 
and he exposes the Gods, together with their priests, 
with surpassing recklessness, not only in indivi- 
dual expressions, 2 but in whole acts and plays. 3 He 
brings them down with rough scorn, not only into 
the region of humanity, but into what is lowest and 
most common ; he holds up the moral weaknesses 
in which they resemble men nakedly and minutely 
to view ; he makes the world of Gods, like that of 
men, turn in such a wild whirlpool, that the spectator 
no less than the poet must lose all respect for the 
beings who are so readily and recklessly at the 
disposal of the imagination. We may attribute 
much of this to the license of comedy ; but still more 
than enough remains to convince us that the poet 
himself, as well as his audience, had gone far from 
the ancient morality, the loss of which he regrets ; 
and we see, on the whole, the period and the circum- 
stances out of which philosophy came forth, wherever 
we come in contact with them, penetrated by that 
spirit of novelty which made it impossible for the 
most decided lovers of antiquity to adhere to their 
ancestral mode of life and thought. 

Amongst other indications of this change, one C. Thepro- 
more circumstance deserves to be noticed, which b e ^ s e °^ 
appeared about the time of the Peloponnesian war forms of 
— the increasing spread of the mysteries, and of wo ^ip. 

1 Knights, 32. 3 In the Frogs, Peace, and the 

2 Clouds, 369, 396, 900, 1075; Birds. 
Birds, 556, 1608. 



30 STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 

Chap. prophecies in connection with them. The reputed 
' predictions of the older prophets had been already 
appealed to in exceptional cases, as is the wont of 
men ; but the mischief and abuse which was kept up 
in this way appears now to have reached an in- 
credible pitch. The Orphic and Corybantic mysteries 
would seem also to have been more widely diffused, 
and to have gained supporters about the same time, 
if we may judge by the numerous allusions to them 
in the writers of this and the following generation. 
In more than one aspect, however, an innovation was 
at the root of this. To a merely outward spectator, it 
was a very different thing, whether advice was 
sought from the public oracles and use was made of 
the ancient rites naturalised from time immemorial 
in fixed spots, or whether recourse was had to the 
professed utterances of individual prophets and to a 
private worship — a worship too without a fixed 
locality, carried about by vagrant priests, practised 
in particular confraternities, and claiming to elevate 
all who took part in it as the special elect above the 
mass of mankind. The predominance of this kind 
of private worship and irregular prophecy was partly 
a proof that the public religion was not altogether 
satisfactory, but in part it contributed to produce 
that very result. Such mystical piety was in itself 
very different from the customary forms of faith and 
life. The notions of the gods, by flowing into each 
other, began to lose their distinctness ; and perhaps 
the harmonising and pantheistic tendency already 
noticed in individuals in the fifth century may be 



ILL USTRA TED B Y NE W RELIGIO US IDEAS. 31 

connected with it. The conceptions of human life Chap. 
and of human nature had assumed an altered cha- ., 
racter, owing to a clearer belief in immortality, 
which the dogmas of the migration of souls and of *■• 
future retribution had introduced ; and traces of this 
change may be seen in the poetry of the time of 
Euripides. Connected too with it was an ascetic 
code of morals which came into vogue, enjoining 
abstinence from animal food, celibacy, the avoidance 
of certain defilements, and the wearing of white 
clothing. Philosophy, it is true, could only appro- 
priate what was most general in this asceticism — the 
renunciation of the senses in a spiritual sense. It 
was not till a later time that the Neopythagoreans 
embraced the whole of it, with all its external 
belongings. But before that time arrived the 
spiritual life and the intellectual growth of Greece 
had another and a more brilliant career marked out 
for it. 



32 STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 



CHAPTEE II. 

CHARACTER AND PROGRESS OF GREEK PHILOSOPHY IN 
THE FIFTH CENTURY. 

Chap. The age of Socrates inherited a rich treasure of 
'__ religious ideas, of moral principles, and scientific 



conceptions, but at the same time it was inferior to 
the age that had preceded it, in its modes of thought 
and in its moral practice. Traditional opinions 
seemed now to be all too narrow ; there were new 
lines of thought to be opened out, new problems to 
be solved. Mythical notions about the Gods and 
about the state after death, had lost all meaning for 
the great majority of the educated ; ] ancient customs 
had fallen into disuse; the regularity of civil life, 
the simplicity and purity of domestic life, had been 
supplanted by an utter recklessness of conduct, and 
by an unscrupulous pursuit of pleasure and profit. 
Principles subversive of all law and of all right, 
were being unhesitatingly avowed, and were wil- 
lingly acquiesced in by the younger generation. The 
strictness and grandeur of the early art, the lucid 
beauty, the classic softness, the self-contained dignity 
of the later art, was degenerating into the study of 
mere effect; while under the influence of sophistry, 

1 Conf. Plato, Eep. i. 330, D. 



ILLUSTRATED BY PROGRESS OF PHILOSOPHY. 33 

science had been brought into an utter disbelief, not Chap. 

only of individual systems, but of the very end ' 

assumed in previous enquiry, the possibility of 
knowledge at all. 

So far, however, from being exhausted, the spirit 
of Greece was only the more emerging into life amid 
these throes and struggles. Its mental horizon was 
being extended ; its powers of thought were being 
braced; its views and conceptions were being en- 
riched; its whole consciousness was gaining a new 
object, now that the nation had succeeded in glorious 
undertakings, and had distinguished itself by its 
military exploits. Even if the meridian of classic art 
and of free political life was past towards the close of 
the period, still the newly-awakened culture of the un- 
derstanding was full of promise for the future; since 
as yet sophistry had been destructive, not construc- 
tive, and instead of having completed, was only com- 
mencing its task. Some new and thorough change 
might surely be worked out, and was seemingly re- 
quired, both in the interest of morals and of science. 
When ordinary propriety of conduct and the tradi- 
tional views of science had once been overthrown by 
the altered spirit of the times, a return to the old 
point of view became impossible. But that men 
should despair on this account of all knowledge, and 
of all principles of morality, was an over-hasty con- 
clusion. For granting that the current view of 
science and morality was inadequate, it by no means 
followed, that all science, and all morality was im- 
possible. On the contrary, the more the pernicious 

D 



34 STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 

Chap. consequences of such a view were brought to light, 
the more it w T as felt to be a duty to avoid them by a 



thorough transformation of the whole tone of feeling 

and thought, instead of making a useless attempt 

blindly to recall the past. 

A.Distinc- To a far-sighted eye the particular line to be 

tion of taken for the re-establishment of science was pointed 

bocratic < ^ L 

from 'pre- out w T ith special clearness by the experience of the 

phUosophy. P as *'' Traditional propriety of conduct had suc- 

(l) The leumbed before the spirit of innovation, because it 

pre-Socra- re sted upon instinct and custom, and not on any 
tic tradi- : r . . ' -, 

tional ; the clear knowledge of its necessity. To be replaced on 

Socratic a p ermanen t basis, propriety of conduct must rest 

resting on L L * •* 

knowledge, upon knowledge. Earlier philosophy had been un- 
able to satisfy the wants of the times because it had 
been directed exclusively to a study of nature; 
because it did not give an elementary education suffi- 
cient for practical life to the mass of men, nor to the 
thinking spirit any clue to the problem of its being 
and destiny. To supply this want a new philosophy 
was required — one which would direct its attention to 
the sphere of mind and morals, and w r ork into shape 
-the ample supply of ethical ideas stored up in poetry 
tknd underlying custom. The earlier systems had been 
exposed to sophistic doubts, because they were too 
one-sided in their foundations, and too materialistic 
in their conclusions to be able to stand against a 
searching criticism — such a criticism as that which 
destroyed their various one-sided aspects by means 
of each other, and argued from the change and 
uncertainty of all sensible appearances, that know- 



ILLUSTRATED BY PROGRESS OF PHILOSOPHY. 35 

ledge was impossible. A lasting structure could not c ^ p - 

be established, unless the foundations were laid 

deeper, unless too some means could be found of 
supplementing these various views by each other, 
of harmonising them when contradictory in some 
higher point of union, and of detecting the un- 
changeable essence of things amidst changing ap- 
pearances. What was wanted was supplied by"* 
dialectic, or the art of forming conceptions, and the ** 
result of it was philosophical idealism. Thus the 
knowledge of the faults and deficiencies of the 
previous age naturally produced the turn taken by 
philosophy after Socrates. Scientific ethics became 
necessary because moral convictions had been shaken ; 
a wider enquiry became necessary, because of the 
onesidedness of the philosophy of nature ; a searching 
criticism was necessary, because dogmatic systems 
contradicted one another ; a philosophy of conception 
was necessary, because observations of the senses could 
not be relied on ; idealism was necessary, because a 
materialistic view of the world proved unsatisfactory. 

It is precisely in these traits that the Socratic (2) The 
philosophy differs from that of the previous period. ^' P Mo^' 
The pre-Socratic philosophy was simply and solely* S0 V h y a 
a philosophy of nature ; it was not until it reached na ture; the 

its period of transition in the sophists that it left Socratic 

• i • of concep- 

nature for ethical and dialectical questions. In iions. 

Socrates the dialectical tendency is supreme. He*> 

occupied himself almost exclusively in determining 

conceptions logically, and in enquiring into the 

nature of virtue. The imperfect Socratic schools 

D 2 



36 STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 

Chap. were, with few exceptions, confined to a similar 
' ground, and even in Plato's system this foundation 
of dialectic, and this structure of ethics formed a 
marked contrast to the previous study of nature. 
So, too, when Aristotle discusses physics in great 
detail and with unmistakeable predilection, they are, 
in point of value, only a single branch of a system 
subordinate to metaphysics. 

The increase of territory thus gained is in itself 

enough to show that the whole domain of philosophy 

was altered ; why else should thought have searched 

for other and more extended materials, were it not 

that it had been changed in itself, and become no 

longer content with those which had sufficed before ? 

For the same reason the philosophic method was a 

different one. In previous philosophy thought had 

been directed immediately to the object, as such. In 

B. Charm- the Socratic and post-Socratic systems it was directed 

this period immediately to the conception, and to the object 

is its doc- only mediately, through the conception. The older 

tri : \e oi 

C on- * systems enquired, without further examination, what 
ccptwns. predicates belonged to things ; for instance, whether 
being admitted of motion or not — how and out of 
what the world was made. The Socratic philosophy 
ever asks, in the first place, what things are in them- 
selves, according to the conception belonging to them, 
and thinks to explain their states and properties best 
when it has thoroughly mastered these conceptions. 1 
The conception of a thing is only obtained, by ob- 
serving its various aspects and qualities, by uniting 

1 Compare the clear statement he had busied himself in vain 
in the Phsedo, 99, .D. After with the enquiries of the physi- 



ILLUSTRATED BY PROGRESS OF PHILOSOPHY. 37 

them, by harmonising apparent contradictions, by Chap. 
distinguishing what is lasting from what is changing, 



in a word, by that constructive criticism, which was i 1 ) Defini- 
ot i ii tion of a 

introduced by Socrates, and which was enlarged conception, 
by Plato and Aristotle. Former philosophers, start- 
ing from single prominent features, endeavoured by 
a one-sided view of things to determine what they 
were. Now all the properties of an object were 
taken into account and weighed from every side, 
before a judgment could be formed. Thus reflection, 
which substituted sophistry in place of the older 
philosophy, was welcomed by the new philosophy as 
a moving power ; the various aspects under which 
things might be regarded, were brought together and 
referred to each other ; but instead of stopping at 
the negative result, and allowing that our notions 
cannot be true because they contain opposite deter- 
minations, the aim of the new philosophy was to^ 
unite these opposites in one, and to show that true 
science is not affected by contradiction, because it 
only refers to that which unites opposites in itself, 
and is superior to all contradiction. This connection 
of knowledge and conceptions is the common pecu- * 
liarity of the Socratic, the Platonic, and the 
Aristotelian philosophy, nor do the lesser Socratic 
schools form any exception to it, as will be seen 
hereafter. 

cal philosophies, he declares him- (Tew iinxeip&v airreadai abroov). 

self convinced, that he is only e5o£e Zr] jxoi xPV^ ai - e *s tovs Koyovs 

involved in greater darkness by Kara<pvyovra 4u e/ceiWs (XKoireiu 

directing his enquiries into things roov vvroou rrju aKrjdeiau (the true 

in themselves, (ra o*>tol (Xkottcou being of things), i. e. instead of 

. . . fi\4iroov irphs tcc TTpdyfJ-ara irpdyfiara, \6yoi, instead of gvto., 

to?s 6fJLjj.aai kol eKcccrn? tCov aladi)- a\i}Q€ia rcou ovroov. 



38 STATE OF CULTURE TN GREECE. 

Ckap. If conceptions, and conceptions alone, can give 

' true knowledge, it follows that true being belongs 
only to that which is known by means of conceptions ; 
that is, to the essence of things, in so far as this 
essence is conceived in thought. This essential 
being must not, however, be sought for in matter. 
That matter could only be made into a world by 
means of spirit, had been shown by Anaxagoras ; and 
the old materialistic physics had been generally 
brought into discredit by the sophists. Nothing 
remained but to examine the form and purpose of 
things, to determine the conceptions belonging to 
them by making the immaterial part the most im- 
portant, and to assign to it a true reality underlying 
the appearance. In this way the Socratic philosophy 
led logically to idealism. 
(2) Theory Even in Socrates himself traces of this idealism 

of concep- 
tions may be seen. His indifference to physical enquiries 

expanded an( ^ j^ g preference for ethical ones prove satisfactorily 
Socrates, that he estimated the inner at a much higher value 

Arirtotie* than the outer world - We need onl y analyse the 
theory of final causes, which he applied to nature, 
into the metaphysical elements out of which it is 
composed, to see that according to his view it is not 
the material of which a thing is made, but the con- 
- ception which gives it shape, that makes everything 
what it is, and which accordingly represents its true 
nature. In the school of Megara this idealism comes 
out more plainly ; and in Plato it runs through all 
parts of his philosophy side by side with a current of 
pre-Socratic doctrines. Even Aristotle does not give 



ILL VSTRA TED BY PRO GRESS OF PHIL SOPHY. 39 

up his adherence to this view. Although he denies the Chap. 
independent existence of the Platonic ideas, he still 



asserts that it is form and not matter that constitutes 
what is real, and that the highest reality belongs to 
spirit free from matter, On this ground his physics 
agree with those of his predecessors in making final 
higher than material causes, so that in comparison 
with the natural philosophers of the pre-Socratic 
period, Aristotle must really be called an Idealist. 

Thus, before the time of Socrates, philosophy 
started from the consideration of nature, and was 
chiefly occupied in enquiring into the nature and 
causes of external things, dealing mainly with their 
material properties. An entirely different character 
is displayed in the philosophy founded by Socrates. 
Instead of beginning by observing nature, it begins 
with observing ' self ' — with ethics instead of physics. - 
It aims at explaining appearances by conceptions 
first of all, and only in the second place by physics. 
It substitutes an attitude of enquiry for dogmatic 
statements, and idealism in the place of materialism. 
Spirit contrasted with nature, and the conception or 
the form contrasted with matter, are now seen to be 
of chief importance — the philosophy of nature has 
given w r ay to a philosophy of conceptions. 

In making philosophy deal exclusively with con- c. De- 
ceptions, it is, however, by no means granted that the t ^ ction 

. _ J & of Socratic 

human mmd is the measure of 'truth and the goal of from post- 
science. Far from having arrived at the subjective f^ tote ~ 
idealism of Fichte — an idealism which was only pos- philosophy. 
sible in modern times — the philosophy of this period 



40 STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 

Chap. is not even nearly so subjective as that of the post- 
' Aristotelian schools, in which the interests of specu- 



lation were subordinated to those of morals. In 
those later schools knowledge was regarded only as a 
means to virtue and happiness, whereas the great 
philosophers of the present period fully recognised 
the independent value of science. To them know- 
ledge was an end in itself, the life of speculation was 
the highest and most blessed life, action was made 
to depend upon knowledge, not knowledge upon the 
aims of active life. The only exceptions to the rule 
are a few one-sided followers of Socrates, who, how- 
ever, prove nothing as to the general tendency, 
(l) It still Here, then, was a simple belief in the possibility 
lekeves the f k now l ec [ge, wanting in the post- Aristotelian school. 

attainment ^ 5 & r 

of know- The general doubts of the sophists were refuted, but 
possible 6 there was no need of grappling with them in the 
mind of the philosopher. The subject for enquiry 
was, how could true knowledge be obtained, in what 
kind of notions must it be sought, how must the con- 
ception of it be determined. There was no doubt 
that knowledge was really possible. The question as 
to a standard — the fundamental question of the later 
schools — was altogether alien l from the feelings of 
men at this time. They did not, as did the Epi- 
cureans and Stoics, cut short the question by saying 
a standard was possible ; they did not, as did the 

1 Take for instance the ques- different to the doubt entertained 

tion raised in the Theagtetus, as in the enquiry after a standard, 

to the conception of knowledge, or as to whether knowledge is 

itno'T^fXT} #, ti 7tot€ rvyxdvei ov ; really possible at all. 
(Thesetet. 145, E.); it is quite 



ILLUSTRATED BY PROGRESS OF PHILOSOPHY. 41 

Sceptics despair of knowledge ; they did not, as did Chap. 
the Neoplatonists, resort to higher revelations ; but ' 

they were content to place the source of truth in ^ 
rigid thought. Even physical science,, the inde- 
pendent pursuit of which was very much neglected 
by later writers, was studied in this period with 
success. Socrates and the great bulk of his followers 
may have neglected it, but Plato could not dispense 
with it, and Aristotle's labours in this branch of 
study set the subject at rest for nearly two thousand 
years. When the post-Aristotelian Ethics had, from 
various causes, at length broken loose from the 
old Greek morality, partly by a world-wide extension, 
partly by being separated from politics, partly, too, 
by the withdrawal of the moral consciousness from 
the outer world, and partly by a dumb resignation 
and a sour asceticism, then the difference between the 
past and the present might easily have been seen 
by recalling the many-sided sympathies of Socrates, 
with his cheerful enjoyment of life, and his devoted 
attachment to his country, or the teaching of Plato 
concerning the state, or that of Aristotle concerning 
virtue and society, or the relation of the Cyrenaic to 
the Epicurean view of happiness. 

It is true, attempts were made even in ethics, to {V ^ u ~ . 

1 ' Unction in 

get beyond the bounds of custom. The propriety of Ethics. 
custom was supplemented by a theory of ethics, and 
a theory of conscious action. The difference between 

the outward deed and the intention, was made 

- 

clearer than in the ordinary view. Men were re- 
quired to rise above the life of the senses to what is 



42 



STATE OF CULTURE TX GREECE. 



Chap. 
II. 



(3) Its 

greater 
co7npre- 
hensive- 
ness. 



ideal. Lisrht was thrown on the meaning and mo- 
tives of moral consciousness. A universal human 
virtue was taught, which is not lost in activity on 
behalf of the state ; and accordingly the state was 
regarded as a means for realising virtue and happi- 
ness, nor was its welfare considered to be the ulti- 
mate end of moral action. But yet this period was 
far removed from the luxurious apathy of the Stoics, 
from the indifference of the Sceptics, from the 
asceticism of the Neoplatonists. It severed the 
moral activity of man from nature, but yet with 
Aristotle it rather looked upon virtue as the perfection 
of a natural gift, or with Plato it advanced to the love 
of what is morally beautiful from the love of what is 
sensibly beautiful. It required the philosopher to 
work for his fellowmen. It did not as yet embrace 
a world-wide society, nor did it shew indifference to 
nationality and political life. Even in this respect, 
it steered a middle course between a slavish surrender 
to the outer world, and a narrow withdrawal from it. 
Compared with the pre-Socratic era, the age of 
Socrates is characterised by the diversion of philosophy 
"from external nature to thought or to ideas. In the 
same way, compared with the following age, it is 
marked by the objective character of its thought, and 
by the fact that the thinker has not to do with him- 
self and the certainty of his own knowing, but with 
attaining to the knowledge of what is in itself real 
and true. Its theory of a knowledge of conceptions 
gives it a scientific character : — a theory from which 
its comprehensive view (reaching alike beyond the 



ILLUSTRATED BY PROGRESS OF PHILOSOPHY. 43 

physical one-sidedness of the pre-Socratic, and the Chap. 
moral one-sidedness of the post-Aristotelian schools), ' 

its constructive criticism in opposition to the earlier 
and later dogmatism, and its idealism, transfiguring 
the whole aspect of the outer world, without, however, 
destroying it — all follow as necessary consequences. 

This theory was developed in a simple and natural P- Dwe- 
order by three philosophic schools, the founders of ^ 
which belong to three successive generations, and S° c ™ tiG 

° . philoso- 

are personally connected as teachers and pupils. The <phy. 
first, who asserted that the standard of human thought 
and action lay in a knowledge of conceptions was 
Socrates, and he taught his followers to acquire this 
knowledge by dealing with notions critically. Plato 
concluded at once that objective conceptions were 
alone real, in any true sense, and that consequently 
only a derivative reality belonged to other things, - 
This view he upheld by a more searching analysis, and 
developed to a system. Lastly, Aristotle arrived at 
the conclusion that conceptions are in things, consti-^ 
tuting their real essence and cause of motion. By 
an exhaustive analysis of the scientific method, he 
showed how conceptions were to be formed and applied 
to things, and by a most comprehensive enquiry into 
the several parts of the universe, he examined the laws 
and connection of conceptions, and the thoughts which 
determine all that really is. Socrates had as yet no (i) So- 
system. He had not even any theory concerning 
matter. He was convinced that in acquiring concep- 
tions true knowledge was alone to be found, that 
true virtue consisted in acting according to concep- 



44 STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 

Chap. tions, that even the world was framed in accordance 
' with definite conceptions, and therefore showed 
design. In any given case he tried by a critical 
testing of former notions to gain a conception of the 
object with which he had to deal, and to this he 
devoted all his powers, setting aside every other 
interest. But he never went beyond this methodical 
treatment. His teaching was confined to general 
requirements and conditions. His importance does 
not arise from his new view of things, but from his 
new view of knowledge. It consists in the way in 
which he put forward this view, in the way in which 
he understood the business and method of science, in 
the strength of his philosophical bent, and in the 
simplicity of his philosophical life. 
(2) Plato. The Socratic search for conceptions, has grown in 
Plato to a discovery of them, to a certainty of 
possessing them, and gazing upon them. Objective 
thoughts or ideas are with him the only real things. 
Objects of sense and matter, as such, are simply 
non-existent; and since all things are made up 
partly of what is and partly of what is not, they 
therefore are real only in proportion to the part they 
have in the idea. However much this may be in 
advance of the Socratic view, it follows logically from 
that view. The Platonic ideas, as Aristotle rightly 
understood them, 1 are the general conceptions, 
which Socrates was searching for, separated from the 
world of appearance. They are also the central point 
of the speculations of Aristotle, according to whom 

1 Met. i. 6. 



ILLUSTRATED BY PROGRESS OF PHILOSOPHY. 45 

the conception or the form alone constitutes what is Chap. 
essential and actual, and is as it were the soul of * 



things ; form without matter, simple spirit thinking (3) Aris- 
of itself, is absolutely real, and thought is to man the 
most intense reality, and therefore also the most 
intense pleasure in life. The only difference is, that 
whereas Plato separated the conception from the 
appearance, and regarded it as independent — as an 
Ihsa — Aristotle places it in things themselves. But 
even this statement does not imply, that form stands 
in need of matter to become actual, since it is in 
itself actual. The reason why Aristotle will not 
remove the idea out of the world of appearances, is 
because it could not in a state of separation serve as 
a connecting link between individual things, nor 
could it be the cause and substance of things. The 
theory then is one and the same in all, but it was 
taken up by Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle at different 
stages of its growth. In Socrates it is undeveloped, 
but full of vitality, pushing itself forward through the 
husk of earlier philosophy ; in Plato it has grown to 
a pure and independent existence ; and in Aristotle 
it has overspread the whole world of being and con- 
sciousness, exhausting itself with the effort, and 
awaiting a perfect transformation from later systems. 
Socrates, so to speak, is the pregnant germ, Plato the 
rich bloom, Aristotle the ripe fruit of Greek philoso- 
phy, standing on the summit of its historical growth. 

There is only one circumstance, which will not (4) Diffi- 
altogether fall in with this historical connection, but c ^ sed b? 
threatens to break the continuity of Greek thought Socratic 

Schools. 



46 STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE. 

Chap. — the imperfect attempts to expand the Socratic prin- 
' ciple which are seen in the Megarian, the Cynic, and 
the Cyrenaic schools. There is, however, a real and 
essential advancement of the philosophic conscious- 
ness to be found in these schools, restricting philoso- 
phy as they did to the form of subjective thought 
and training of the character ; although even in the 
time of Socrates the aim of philosophy began to be 
directed to objective knowledge, which could only be 
gained by a systematic course. And on other grounds 
also, they cannot be said to be wholly unimportant, 
since they were not only, at a later period, starting 
points for Stoicism, Epicureanism and Scepticism, 
but they also promoted independently many scientific 
enquiries, by means of which they exercised an 
undeniable influence on Plato and Aristotle. The 
same state of things is met with frequently in other 
instances, and occurred only a very short time after- 
wards in the older Academy, and in the Peripatetic 
school, both of which had no independent influence 
on the growth of philosophy, but yet cannot be over- 
looked in its history. One and the same thing must 
be said of all these instances. It is that they are 
important, not for having inwardly expanded a 
principle, but for having been outwardly helpful in 
advancing it, by preserving for others the older 
forms of culture, by improving and widening them 
here and there, and by thus keeping the philosopher's 
mind in sight of a many-sidedness, without which 
later systems would never have included the earlier 
ones. 



ILL USTRA TED BY PRO GRESS OF PHIL SOPHY. 4 7 

There were accordingly no philosophic schools to be Chap. 

met with, which had a permanent influence in Greece, ' 

until philosophy as a w r hole took up a more general 
position. They first appear with Socrates and Plato. 
By summing up all the pre-Socratic schools, Plato 
put an end to their existence; and since his time 
there has been no principle put forward, which has 
not propagated itself in a school until the time that 
Neoplatonism put the coping-stone on Greek philoso- 
phy, and extinguished by including all previous 
systems. However many philosophical tendencies 
exist side by side in later times, only a few of them 
possess a life of their own. The rest keep up former 
views with a sort of traditional adherence, and cannot 
be taken further into account, in considering the 
peculiar philosophical character of the time. They 
need therefore only to be mentioned by the historian 
in a passing way. This treatment applies to the 
imperfect followers of Socrates. Since their teachings 
were not advancements in principle, but only in- 
complete and partial ways of representing the Socratic 
philosophy, they can only be treated cursorily, and in 
connection with the doctrines of Socrates. 



PAET II. 

SOCRATES. 
CHAPTEE III. 

THE LIFE OF SOCRATES. 

Chap. There is no instance on record of a philosopher 

III 

' whose importance as a thinker is so closely bound 

up with the personality of the man as it was in the 
case of Socrates. Every system, it is true, as the 
work of a definite person, may best be viewed in the 
light of his peculiarities, culture, misfortunes and 
circumstances ; but yet in many cases it is well to 
separate the fruits of genius from the actual stock on 
which they grew. The doctrines of schools can 
indeed generally be received and handed down by 
men of very different characters ; but in the case of 
Socrates this is not nearly so feasible. He had far 
less to do with definite doctrines, which might be 
equally well embraced by different men, than with 
giving a peculiar turn to life and thought, a peculiar 
character to philosophy, and a new method to scien- 
tific enquiry. In short, his teaching was not of a 
kind to be directly imparted and faithfully handed 



HIS LIFE. 49 



III. 



down, but could only be left to propagate itself freely Chap. 
by stirring up others to a similar self-culture. This 
fact should make us all the more anxious for detailed 
information as to the training of a character which 
has had so powerful an influence on history. But 
here a very common difficulty meets us. It is known 
what Socrates was, and what he did in his riper 
years ; but only the roughest sketches are preserved 
of his outward life. A dark cloud rests on the earlier 
part of it, and excepting a few scanty, and for the 
most part untrustworthy, notices of earlier writers, 
we are left entirely to conjecture for the history of 
his intellectual and moral training. 

The youth and early manhood of Socrates fall in 
the most brilliant period of Grecian history. Born 
during the last years of the Persian war, 1 he was a 

1 The most certain chrono- his seventieth year according to 

logical date in the life of Socrates Plato (Apol. 17, D.), but not 

is his death. According to De- long (Crito, 52, E. calls him in 

metrius Phalerius and Apollo- round numbers seventy), his birth 

dorus (in Diog. ii. 44), it hap- must have fallen not later than 

pened in Olympiad 95, 1 (Diod. 469 B.C., and since his birthday 

xiv. 37), and probably in the is rightly fixed for the 6th Thar- 

second half of the month Thar- gelion (Apoll. in Diog. ii. 44, 

gelion. For we must place the iElian, V. H. ii. 25), but was not 

return of the Delian dcwpls at past at the time of the judicial 

this time, and according to inquiry, we should have to go back 

Plato (Phsedo, 59, D.), it arrived for it to 470 or even 471 b. c. 

the day before the execution of The question then arises whe- 

Socrates. About a month earlier ther these notices about the time 

(Xenophon, Mem. iv. 8, 2, says of his birth are historical, or 

definitely thirty days), i.e. in the whether they are a mere fiction, 

month Munychion, the judicial and whether the birthday of 

enquiry took place. Accordingly Socrates, the ixoligvtikos, was not 

Socrates must have been con- placed on the 6th of Thargelion 
demned in April 399 B.C., and- to make it agree with that of 

have suffered death in May the Artemis, as Plato's was made to 

same ypar. Now since at the agree with Apollo's. In this case 

time of his death he had passed it is possible that he was born in 



50 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
III. 



near contemporary of all those great men who 
adorned the age of Pericles. As a citizen of Athens 
he could enjoy the opportunities afforded by a city, 
which united every means of culture by its unrivalled 
fertility of thought. Poverty and low birth were 
but slender obstacles ! in the Athens of Pericles, 
where the lowest of the city roll were not debarred 



469 b.c. (Olym. 77, 3). The cal- 
culation of Apollodorus, which 
places it in 468 b.c. (01. 77, 4), 
is anyhow wrong. In the same 
way the assertion noticed by 
Diogenes that he was only sixty 
years of age, carries no weight 
against the clear statement of 
Plato, and probably rests upon a 
transcriber's mistake. Neither 
will Hermann's remark hold that 
Socrates could not have been 
born in the third or fourth year 
of an Olympiad, since he was 
twenty -five at the time of his 
interview with Protagoras, which 
interview happened (Plato, Parm.) 
at the time of the Panathensea, 
and consequently in the third year 
of an Olympiad. For, supposing 
the interview to be an historical 
fact, the remark of Synesius (Calv. 
Enc. c. 17) about the age of 
Socrates was a pure guess, which 
the expressions in the Thesetet. 
183 F., and the Parmen. 127, 
C, irdvv vios, o"<p6Bpa veos, refute 
altogether. 

1 That his father Sophroniscus 
(howEpiphanius, Exp. Pid. 1087, 
comes to call him Elbaglus, is 
difficult to say) was a sculptor, 
may be gathered from Diog. ii. 
18, and the services of his mother 
Phsenarete as a midwife are 
known from Plato's Thesetetus, 
149, A. As regards his circum- 
stances, it is stated by Demetrius 



Phaler. in Plutarch's Life of 
Aristides, c. 1, that he not only 
possessed land, but had seventy 
minse — a considerable sum — at 
interest, but this is at variance 
with the testimony of the most 
trustworthy witnesses. The his- 
torical grounds for it are without 
doubt weaker than those on 
which a similar statement about 
Aristides rests, and arose seem- 
ingly out of a Peripatetic's wish 
to find authorities for his view of 
the worth of riches. Plato (Apol. 
23, B. 38, A. ; Eep. i. 337, D.) 
and Xenophon ((Ec. ii. 2 ; xi. 3 ; 
Mem. i. 2, 1) represent him not 
only as very poor, irdvv /unKpa 
k€ktt}/jl4vos and iv -nevla fJivpia, but 
they establish this by explicit 
references. Plato makes him say, 
perhaps he could pay a fine of 
a mina, and Xenophon depicts 
him as estimating his whole pro- 
perty, inclusive of his cottage, 
at five minse. The story of 
Libanius (Apol. Socr. t. iii. p. 7), 
according to which Socrates in- 
herited eighty minse from his 
father, and then lost them by lend- 
ing, bearing his loss with extreme 
composure, looks like a fiction 
intended to shew the indifference 
of a philosopher to wealth. It can, 
however, scarcely come from Liba- 
nius. If Plato and Xenophon had 
known the story, we may be sure 
they would not have omitted it. 



HIS LIFE. 51 



III. 



from enjoying the rich profusion of art, which was for Chap. 
the most part devoted to the purposes of the state, nor 
yet from associating with men in the highest ranks 
of life. By this free personal intercourse science 
was at that time advanced far more than by teaching 
in schools, and Socrates had reached manhood before 
the Sophists introduced a systematic course of edu- 
cation. Although it can in this way be easily under- 
stood how r a man in the position of Socrates could 
find enough to stimulate and to educate his mind, 
and how he could be carried away by the wonderful 
current of the intellectual movement at Athens, 
nothing further is known about the means by which 
he advanced to his subsequent greatness. 1 We may 
suppose that he enjoyed the usual education in gym- 
nastics and music, 2 although the accounts which 
are given of his teachers in music 3 deserve no credit. 

1 See the work of H. F. Her- 3 According to Max. Tyr. 
mann, De Socratis magistris et xxxviii. 4, Connus was his teacher 
disciplina juvenili, Marb. 1837. in music, and Euenus in the art 

2 Plato asserts this expressly of poetry. Alexander (in Diog. 
in the Crito, 50, D. ; but apart ii. 19) makes him a pupil of 
from this testimony there could Damon, whereas Sextus (Matth. 
be no doubt of it. Porphyry's vi. 13), makes Lampo his teacher, 
statement (in Theod. Cur. Gr. Aff. All these notices have undoubted - 
i. 29, p. 8) — a statement which he ly come from passages in Plato, 
undoubtedly got from Aristoxe- which are irrelevant. Socrates 
nus — that Socrates was too un- calls Connus his teacher (Menex. 
educated to be able to read, need 235, E., and Euthyd. 272, C), 
scarcely be refuted by authorities but according to the latter pas- 
such as Xen. Mem. i. 6, 14. It sage, he was a man at the time, 
is clearly an exaggeration of the so that he must have gone to 
well-known airaiSevo-ia (Plato, Connus simply with a view to 
Symp. 221, E., 199, A., Apol. 17, revive a skill long since acquired. 
B.), which only belongs to the It is more probable, (however 
satirical outside of the philoso- often such notices are given as 
pher, but was readily taken hold historical, and with further de- 
of and exaggerated by jealousy tails: Cic. ad Earn. ix. 22 ; Quint, 
in later times. i. 10; Val. Max. viii. 7 ; Diog. ii. 

e 2 



52 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
III. 



We are further told that he learnt enough of geo- 
metry to be able to solve difficult problems, and that 
he was not ignorant of astronomy ; l but whether he 
acquired this knowledge in his youth, or only ifl 
later years, and who was his teacher, we cannot tell. 2 
And lastly, in his riper years he may be seen in 
contact more or less close with a number of cha- 
racters who must have exerted a most varied and 
stirring influence on his mind. 3 It is beyond doubt 
that he was much indebted to this personal inter- 
course ; but these friends cannot strictly be pointed 
to as his teachers, although we may often find them 
called so, 4 nor do they throw any light on the history 

32; Stob. Elor. 29. 68), that 
the passages in Plato refer to 
the Connus of the comic poet 
Ameipsias, from whom the whole 
fabrication comes. Damon's name 
comes from the Laches. 180, D., 
197, D. ; Rep. iii. 400, B., 424, 
C, in which however this musi- 
cian appears as the friend rather 
than as the instructor of Socrates, 
and as an important political cha- 
racter from his connection with 
Pericles. The Phsedo, 60, C, and 
the Apology, 20, A, mention 
Euenus, but not as a teacher, 
and hardly even as an acquaint- 
ance of Socrates. And lastly, the 
Lampo of Sextus probably owes 
his existence to a mistake. Sex- 
tus may have written Damon in- 
stead of Connus (Stobseus, Plor. 
29, 68, has Connus in the same 
connection) — or else Lamprus. (a 
name which occurs in the Me- 
nexenus, though not as that of a 
teacher of Socrates), and transcri- 
bers made it Lampo. The cele- 
brated prophet of this name 



cannot of course have been in- 
tended. 

1 Xen. Mem. iv. 7, 3, 5. 

2 Maximus says Theodore of 
Cyrene, but this is only an infer- 
ence drawn from Plato's The?e- 
tetus, and not warranted by it. 

3 For instance the Sophists 
Protagoras. Grorgias, Polus, Hip- 
pias, T lira sy mac hus, but espe- 
cially Prodicus. Cf. Plato, Prot., 
G-org., Hip., Eep. i. Xen. Mem. 
ii. 1, 21, iv. 4, 5, &c. Also Euri- 
pides, who was on such intimate 
terms with him that the comic 
poets charged him with borrowing 
his tragedies from Socrates. Cf. 
Diog. ii. 18; .Elian, Y. H. ii. 13. 
Also Aspasia; cf. Xen. (Ec. 3, 14 ; 
Mem. ii. 6, 36 ; iEschines in 
Cic. de Invent, i. 31 ; and Diotima, 
Plato, Symp. About several of 
them we do not know whether 
Plato was true to facts in bringing 
them into connection with Socrates. 

4 Socrates calls himself in 
Plato a pupil of Prodicus, of As- 
pasia (Menex. 235, E.), and of 



HIS LIFE. 



53 



of his early training. The statement that he received 
instruction in his younger years from Anaxagoras 
and Archelaus, can neither be supported by satisfac- 
tory evidence, nor is probable in itself. 1 The same 



Chap. 
III. 



Diotima (Symp. 201, D.\ all of 
■which statements have been re- 
peated in past and later times. 
But not only must we refer the 
instruction of the two ladies to a 
free personal intercourse, on the 
supposition that Diotima is an 
historical person, and the Me- 
nexenus a genuine dialogue, but 
the same applies equally to Pro- 
dicus. Maximus makes Ischo- 
machus his teacher in agriculture, 
but he probably arrived at this 
by a perversion of Xen. CEc. 6, 
17. The story that he was a 
pupil of Diagoras of Melos (the 
Scholiast on Aristoph. Xubes. v. 
828), is an obvious fiction. 

1 The authorities are : for 
Anaxagoras, Aristid. Or. xlv., 
and the nameless sources referred 
to by Diog. ii. 19 and 45, whom 
Suidas according to his custom 
follows; for Archelaus, Diog. ii. 
16, 19, 23, x. 12, and those men- 
tioned by him, Io, Aristoxenus, 
and Diocles. Besides these Ci- 
cero, Sextus, Porphyry, Clement 
of Alexandria (Strom, i. 301). 
Simplicius, Eusebius (pr. ev. x. 
14. 13. xiv. 15, 11, xv. 61. 11), 
the spurious Origen, and a few 
others. The evidence in favour 
of Anaxagoras is very insufficient, 
and the expressions about him 
which Plato (Phsedo, 97, B.) and 
Xenophon (Mem. iv. 7, 6) put 
in the mouth of Socrates, make 
it improbable that he knew him 
. nally, or was acquainted 
with his views, except from books 
and hearsay, which of course 



does not exclude any casual or 
accidental intercourse. The tra- 
ditions about his relations to 
Archelaus go a great deal further, 
not however without much that is 
suspicious. Of the two most 
ancient authorities, Io and Aris- 
toxenus, the former, who was a 
near contemporary of Socrates, 
does not seemingly make Arche- 
laus his instructor. All that is 
stated by Diog. ii. 23, on his 
authority, is that Socrates, when 
a young man. traveUed with 
Archelaus to Samos. But this 
assertion is indirect contradiction 
to what Plato says (Crito, 52, B.), 
that Socrates never left Athens, 
except once to go to the Isthmian 
games, or when on military duty. 
Miiller, however, gets over the 
difficulty (Prag. Hist. Or. ii. 49), 
by understanding Plato only to 
refer to Socrates as a man. 

It may be asked whether there 
is not some mistake here, and 
whether Io does not mean by 
the journey to Samos, his taking 
part in the expedition to Samos of 
441 b. c, which, strange to say, 
is not mentioned in the Apology, 
28, E. — or whether the Archelaus, 
with whom Socrates was then 
brought into contact, was the 
follower of Anaxagoras or ano- 
ther — or, lastly, whether the error 
does not lie with Diogenes, who 
applied to Socrates what Io had 
said of some one else. Certain 
it is, that Io's testimony does 
not prove Socrates to have been 
a pupil of Archelaus, and even 



54 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 

in. 



must be said of his supposed relations to Zeno and 
Parmenides ; and of the philosophical writings with 
which he was acquainted, still less is recorded. 1 

Socrates, no doubt, began life by learning his 
father's trade, 2 a trade which he probably never 
practised, and certainly soon gave up. 3 He con- 



if the association were proYed to 
have existed in Socrates' younger 
days, it would still be a question, 
whether his philosophy was due 
to this connection. 

Aristoxenus goes further. Ac- 
cording to his account in Diog. ii. 
16, Socrates was the favourite of 
Archelaus, or as Porphyry repre- 
sents it, he became acquainted 
with Archelaus in his seventeenth 
year, lived with him many years, 
and was by him initiated into 
philosophy. But we shall have 
occasion to notice hereafter how 
little dependence can be placed 
on the statements of Aristoxenus 
about Socrates. Were the other 
assertion of Diogenes established, 
which is closely connected with 
this one, that Socrates did not be- 
come a pupil of Archelaus till after 
the condemnation of Anaxago- 
ras, its untrustworthiness would 
be thoroughly shown ; for Socrates 
was seventeen when Anaxagoras 
left Athens, and had long passed 
his years of pupillage. But the 
assertions of Aristoxenus are in 
themselves improbable. For sup- 
posing Socrates to have been on 
intimate terms with Archelaus, 
when young, twenty years before 
Anaxagoras was banished, how 
is it conceivable that he should not 
have known Anaxagoras? — and 
if he was instructed by him in 
philosophy, how is it that neither 
Xenophon nor Plato nor Aris- 



totle ever mention Archelaus ? 
Later statements about the rela- 
tion of the two philosophers ap- 
pear to rest on the authority of 
Aristoxenus. As there is nothing 
in the teaching of Archelaus, with 
which the Socratic teaching can 
be connected, it seems probable 
that he has little to do with the 
philosophy of Socrates, even 
though Socrates may have known 
him and his teaching. Besides, 
Socrates (in Xen. Sym.) calls 
himself an avroupybs rr\s (piXocro- 
(pias, a self-taught philosopher. 

1 He seems to have known 
those of Anaxagoras. A supposed 
allusion to the writings of Hera- 
clitus (in Diog. ii. 22), is un- 
certain, nor is it established 
that he ever studied the Py- 
thagorean doctrine (Plut. Curios. 
2). The very general remarks 
aboutthe Atomists and Heraclitus 
(Xen. Mem. i. 1, 14) by no means 
prove that he was acquainted with 
their writings or systems. 

2 Timon and Duris in Diog. ii. 
19. Timaeus, according to Porphy- 
ry in Cyril c. Jul. 208, A. Plato 
(Rep. vi. 496, B.) seems to have 
had the case of Socrates in view. 

3 Porphyry leaves it an open 
question whether Socrates or his 
father practised sculpture. That 
the Graces on the Acropolis were 
declared to be his work (Diog. 
Paus. i. 22) will not go for much. 
No allusions are found in Ari- 



HIS LIFE. 



55 



sidered it to be his special calling to labour for the 
moral and intellectual improvement of himself and 
others — a conviction which he felt so strongly that 
it appeared to him in the light of a divine reve- 
lation. 1 Moreover he was confirmed in it by a 
Delphic oracle, which, of course, must not be re- 
garded as the cause of, but rather as an additional 
support to his reforming zeal. 2 How and when this 



Chap. 
III. 



stophanes, Plato, and Xenophon 
to the sculptor's art, from which 
we may conclude, that if Socrates 
ever practised it, he gave it 
up long before the play of the 
Clouds was acted. Duris and 
Demetrius of Byzantium in Diog. 
ii. 19, in stating that he was a 
slave, and that Crito removed him 
from a workshop and cared for 
his education, appear to confound 
him with Phsedo. 

1 Plato, Apol. 33, C. : 4fiol Se 
rovro .... TrpOffTeraKTai vnb rod 
6eov TrpdrreLV e/c fiaureicov kclI e£ 
zvxmvioiv koX iravrl rpSirw, 3>irep ris 
7tot€ /ecu &AA17 deia fxoipa avtipwircp 

KCU OTIOVU irpO(T€Ta^€ TTOltlV. 

2 According to the well-known 
story in the Apol. 20, E., which 
has been repeated countless times 
by succeeding writers, the matter 
stands thus : Chserephon had 
asked at Delphi if there was a 
wiser man than Socrates, and the 
priestess had answered in the 
negative. Upon this, Socrates 
goes on to say, he had thought 
over the sense of the oracle, and 
in the hope of finding it, he had 
conversed with all who made pre- 
tensions to knowledge as to what 
they knew. The result was that 
he discovered, that neither he 
himself nor any other man was 



wise, but that others believed 
themselves to be wise, whilst he 
was conscious of his want of 
wisdom. He considered himself 
therefore pledged in the service 
of Apollo to a similar sifting of 
men, to save the honour of the 
oracle, which declared him, who 
was so wanting in wisdom, to be 
the wisest of men. Allowing that 
Socrates really said this — and 
there is no doubt that he 
uttered it in substance, it by no 
means follows from the story, 
that his philosophical activity 
dated from the Pythian oracle. 
Else how should Cbserephonhave 
come to put the question or the 
oracle to give its answer? If 
then he speaks in the Apology, 
as though the Delphic oracle had 
first aroused him to sift men, 
this must be an oratorical figure. 
Without being obliged to follow 
Colotes (in Plut. adv. Col. 17, 1), 
and Athenseus (v. 218) and many 
modern writers (Brucker, Hist. 
Phil. i. 534, Van Dalen and 
Heumann), in denying the his- 
torical character of the oracle al- 
together — which certainly cannot 
be very rigidly proved — we can 
attach no great importance to it. 
It may have done as good service 
to Socrates as his doctor's degree 



56 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
III. 



conviction first dawned on him, cannot be deter- 
mined. Meanwhile it is most probable that this 
conviction grew gradually, as he gained more know- 
ledge of his moral and intellectual position, and 
soon after the beginning of the Peloponnesian war 
he had found in the main his philosophical centre of 
gravity. 1 

Henceforth he gave himself up to the mission he 
had assumed with perfect devotion. His means of 
support were extremely limited, and his domestic 
life, in company with Xanthippe, was by no means 
happy. 2 But he allowed himself to be disturbed in 



did to Luther, by assuring him 
of his inward call, but it made 
him just as little a philosophical 
reformer as the doctor's degree 
made Luther a religious reformer. 
The story of the oracle, given to 
his father when he was a boy 
(Plut. Gen. Socr. c. 20), is a fic- 
tion. 

1 This is supported by the part 
which Aristophanes assigns to 
Socrates in the Clouds. If at 
that time, 424 B.C., he could be 
described as the chief of the new 
learning, this supposes, that he 
must have worked for years ac- 
cording to a definite method, and 
have gathered about him a circle 
of friends. In the Connus of 
Ameipsias, which seems to have 
been acted at the same time as 
the Clouds, he likewise appears 
as a well-known person, and Io 
in his travelling memorials had 
previously alluded to him, but Io 
died before 421 B.C. since Aris- 
tophanes (Peace, 835) mentions 
him as dead. 

2 The name of Xanthippe is 



not only proverbial with us, but 
the later writers of antiquity — 
Seneca (De Const. 18, 5, Epist. 
104, 17), Porphyry (in Theod. 
Cur. Gt. Aff. xii. 65) Diogenes 
(ii. 36), Plutarch (Coh. Ira, 13), 
who however tells the same of 
the wife of Pittacus, JElian (V. 
H. xi. 12), Athenseus (v. 219), 
Synesius, &c, tell so many little 
stories and disgraceful traits of 
her that one feels inclined to take 
up the cudgels in her behalf, as 
Heumann has actually done (Acta 
Phil. i. 103). WhatXenophon 
(Mem. ii. 2 ; Sym. 2, 10) and Plato 
(Phsedo, 60, A.) say of her, shows 
that she must have been not al- 
together badly disposed, but 
really solicitous about her family, 
though at the same time she was 
extremely violent, over-bearing, 
and hard to deal with. It is re- 
markable that Aristophanes in 
the Clouds says nothing of the 
married life of Socrates, which 
migiit have afforded him ma- 
terial for many a joke. Probably 
he was not then married. His 



HIS LIFE. 



57 



the work which he recognised to be the business of 
his life just as little by domestic cares, as he suffered 



Chap. 
III. 



eldest son is called twenty-five 
years later (Plato, Apol. 34, D., 
Phsedo, 60, A.) /xeipaKiovridr), and 
there are two other young chil- 
dren. Besides Xanthippe, So- 
crates is said to have had another 
wife, Myrto, a daughter or grand- 
daughter of Aristides, after Xan- 
thippe according to Aristotle (in 
Diog. ii. 26 ; less accurate is Plu- 
tarch's Aristid. 27), before her 
according to another view (also 
in Diog.), and at the same time 
with her according to Aristoxenus, 
Demetrius Phaler., Hieronymus 
Bhod., Satyrus, and Porphyry, 
so that he had two wives at once. 
The fallacy of the last view has 
been already exposed by Pansetius, 
(according to Plut.) and in modern 
times has been refuted by Luzac 
(Lectiones Atticse, Leyden, 1809), 
in a conclusive manner. Por 
not only is such a thing in- 
compatible with the character of 
Socrates, but amongst his co- 
temporaries, foes and friends, 
Xenophon, Plato, Aristophanes, 
and other comic poets, including 
Timon, there is no allusion to 
a relation, which would most 
undoubtedly have caused a great 
sensation had it existed, and have 
provoked attack and defence, and 
derision in the highest degree. 
The laws of Athens never allowed 
bigamy, and the decree purport- 
ing to be in favour of it, by 
which Hieronymus attempts to 
give probability to his story, 
either never was passed, or must 
bear a different meaning. The 
only question is, whether there 
can be any foundation for the 
story, and how its rise can 



be explained. Luzac supposes 
that Myrto was his first wife, 
and that he married Xanthippe 
after her death. But this is not 
probable. Por, in the first place, 
neither Xenophon nor Plato know 
anything about two wives of So- 
crates, although the Symposium 
would have invited some mention 
of them. In the second place, 
all the biographers (a few un- 
known ones in Diogenes excepted) 
assert that he married Myrto 
after Xanthippe, and that So- 
phroniscus and Menexenus were 
her children. Thirdly, Socrates 
cannot possibly have married the 
sister or the niece of Lysimachus, 
the son of Aristides, before the 
battle of Delium, since at the 
time of the battle (Lach. 180, D.) 
he did not know Lysimachus per- 
sonally. Xor can his first mar- 
riage have been contracted after 
that date, since Xanthippe's eld- 
est son was grown up at the 
time of his death. And lastly, 
in Plato's Thesetet. 150, E., 
shortly before his death, Socrates 
mentions this Aristides, as one 
of those who had withdrawn 
from his intellectual influence 
without detriment to his relation- 
ship as a kinsman. 

Thus the connection between 
Socrates and Myrto seems to be- 
long altogether to the region of 
fable. The most probable account 
of the origin of the story is the 
following. "We gather from the 
remains of the treatise irepi evye- 
peias, (Stob. Plor. 76, 24,25; 77, 
13) the genuineness of which was 
doubted by Plutarch, and cer- 
tainly cannot be allowed, that 



58 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
III. 



his composure to be ruffled by his wife's fretfulness. 1 
His own concerns were neglected lest he should omit 
anything in the service of Grod. 2 To be independent, 
he tried, like the Grods, to rise superior to his wants ; 3 
and by carefully practising self-denial and abstemious- 
ness, 4 he was really able to boast that his life was 
more pleasant and more free from troubles than that 
of the rest of mankind. 5 Thus he was able to devote 



this dialogue was concerned with 
the question, whether nobility be- 
longed to those whose parents were 
rich, or to those whose parents 
were virtuous. Now none were 
more celebrated for their spotless 
virtue and their voluntary poverty 
than Aristides and Socrates. Ac- 
cordingly the writer brought the 
two into connection. Socrates 
was made to marry a daughter 
of Aristides, and since Xanthippe 
was known to be his wife, Myrto 
was made to be his second wife 
and the mother of his younger 
children. Others, however, re- 
membered, that Xanthippe sur- 
vived her husband. They thought 
it unlikely that Socrates should 
be the son-in-law of a man dead 
before he was born, and they 
tried to surmount these difficulties 
in various ways. As regards the 
first difficulty, either it was main- 
tained that Myrto was his second 
wife and that the younger chil- 
dren were hers, in which case it 
was necessary to place her side 
by side with Xanthippe, as Hier- 
onymus actually did, and in- 
vented a decree of the people to 
make it probable; or to avoid 
romance, this supposition was 
given up, and Myrto was made 
to be his first wife, who then 



can have borne him no children, 
since Lamprocles, his eldest son, 
according to Xenophon, was a 
child of Xanthippe. The second 
difficulty might be got over either 
by making Myrto a grand-daugh- 
ter instead of a daughter of Aris- 
tides, or by making her father to 
be Aristides, the grandson of Aris- 
tides the Just. Plato, Lach. 179, 
A. ; Theset., &c. The former is 
the usual one. The latter is the 
view of Athenseus. 

1 See Xenophon. 

2 Plato, Apol. 23, B.; 31, B. 

3 Conf. Xen. Mem. i. 6, 1-10, 
where he tells Antiphon, that 
he is thoroughly happy in his 
mode of life, ending with the 
celebrated words : rb pei/ firjdevbs 
Beeadai, Qttov elvai, rb 8e cos i\a- 
x'kttwv iyyvrdrco rod 6eiov. 

4 The contentment of Socrates, 
the simplicity of his life, his ab- 
stinence from sensual pleasures 
of every kind, his scanty clothing, 
his walking bare-foot, his en- 
durance of hunger and thirst, of 
heat and cold, of deprivations 
and hardships, is well known. 
Conf. Xen. Mem. i. 2, 1 ; i. 3, 5 ; 
i. 6, 2 ; Plato, Symp. 174, A., 219, 
B. ; Phsedrus, 229, A. ; Aristoph. 
Nubes, 103, 361, 409, 828. 

5 Xen. Mem. i. 6, 4 ; iv. 8, 6. 



HIS LIFE. 59 



1 Xen. Mem. i. 2, 5 ; i. 5, 6 
i. 6, 3 ; Plato, Apol. 19, B. 31 
B. ; 33, A.; Euthypro, 3, B. 



Sen. Benef. v. 6 ; Dio Chrys. Or. 
xiii. 30), and this is confirmed as 
far as the first-named individual 

Symp. 219, E. In the face of is concerned by Aristotle, Ehet. 

these distinct testimonies, the ii. 23. 

statement of Aristoxenus (Biog. 2 In the Crito, 52, B., he says, 
ii. 20) that from time to time he that except on military duty he 
collected money from his pupils, has only once left Athens, going- 
can only be regarded as a slander, as a deputy to the Isthmian games; 
It is possible that he did not al- and from the Phsedrus, 230, C, 
ways refuse the presents of well- we gather that he rarely went 
disposed friends — (Biog. ii. 74, outside the gates. 
121, 34; Sen. de Benef. i. 8 ; 3 Plato, Apol. 31, C. 
vii. 24; Quintil. Inst, xii. 7, 9). 4 Plato, Apol. 31, D. ; Eep. vi. 
Questionable anecdotes (Biog. ii. 496, C. 

24, 31, 65 ; Stob. Flor. 3, 61 ; 17, 5 Plato, Apol. 33, A., or as the 

17) prove nothing against it, but Grorgias (473, E.) ironically ex- 

the authorities cannot be de- presses it: because he was too 

pended on. He is said to have plain for a statesman, 

refused the splendid offers of the 6 Plato, Apol. 29, B. ; 30, B. ; 

Macedonian Archelaus and the 33, C. 
Thessalian Scopas (Biog. ii. 25 ; 



III. 



his whole powers to the service of others, without Chap. 
asking or taking reward ; l and thus he became so 
engrossed by his labours for his native city, that he 
rarely passed its boundaries or even went outside its 
gates. 2 

He did not, however, feel himself called upon to 
take part in the affairs of the state. 3 On the one 
hand he felt it to be impossible to maintain a cha- 
racter for statesmanship 4 in Athens, as it then was, 
without violating his principles ; besides which, sub- 
mission to the demands of a pampered mob was 
odious to him. 5 On the other hand, his own duty 
called him in another direction — that of influencing 
individuals. 6 Any one convinced as he was, that 
care for one's own culture must precede care for 
public business, and that a thorough knowledge of 



60 SOCRATES. 

Chap. self, together with a deep amd many-sided experi- 



III. 



ence, was a necessary condition of public activity, 1 
must have thought that, to educate individuals by 
influence, was the more pressing need, 2 and have held 
that he was doing his country a better service by 
educating able statesmen for it, than by actually 
discharging a statesman's duties. 3 Accordingly, 
Socrates never aimed at being anything but a private 
citizen. His duties to his country he discharged by 
serving in several campaigns with the greatest 
bravery and endurance. 4 As a citizen he boldly and 
fearlessly met the unrighteous demands alike of an 
infuriated populace and of tyrannical oligarchs, in 
every case of danger/ without ever being anxious to 
take part in the government of the commonwealth. 

Just as little was he desirous of being a public 
teacher like the Sophists. He not only took no pay, 
but he gave no methodical course. 6 He did not 

1 Plato, Symp. 216, A.; Xen. battle of Delium, but probably 
Mem. iv. 2, 6 ; iii. 6. Plato is right, who shews himself 

2 Conf. Gorg. 513, E. in general well informed on these 

3 Xen. Mem. i. 6, 15. matters. The doubts which Athe- 

4 See the stories in Plato, Symp. ngeus raises about Plato's account 
219, E.; Apol. 28, E. ; Charm, i. ; are of no importance. Of course 
Lach. 181, A. Of the three expe- other accounts which have been 
ditions meutioned in the Apology, taken from it cannot be alleged 
that to Potidsea between 432 and in support of it. The story that 
429 b. c, that to Delium, 424 B.C., Socrates rescued Xenophon at 
and that to Amphipolis, 422 B.C., Delium (Strabo, ix. 2, 7 ; Diog.) 
the two first are described with seems to confound Xenophon with 
details. At Potidaea Socrates Alcibiades. 

rescued Alcibiades, but gave up in 3 Xen. Mem. i. 1, 18, and 2,31; 

his favour his claim to the prize iv. 4, 2 ; Hellen. i. 7, 15 ; Plato, 

for valour. His fearless retreat Apol. 32, A. ; G-org. 473, E. ; 

from the battle of Delium is men- epist. Plat. vii. 324, D ; Grote's 

tioned with praise. Antisthenes Hist, of Greece, viii. 238-285. 

(in Athen.v. 216) refers the affair 6 Plato, Apol. 33, A: e-yw 5e 

of the prize to the time after the 5i5ao-/caAos fxej/ ovdevbs ttwttot 



HIS LIFE. 61 

profess to teach, but to learn in common with others, Chap. 

• III 

not to force his convictions upon them, but to exa- ^ 

mine theirs ; not to pass the truth that came to 
hand like a coin fresh from the mint, but to stir up 
a desire for truth and virtue, to point out the way to 
it, to overthrow what was spurious, and to seek out 
real knowledge. 1 Never weary of talking, he was on 
the look out for every opportunity of giving an 
instructive and moral turn to the conversation. Day 
by day he was about in the market and public pro- 
menades, in schools and workshops, ever ready to 
converse with friends or strangers, with citizens and 
foreigners, but always prepared to lead them to higher 
subjects ; 2 and whilst thus in his higher calling serving 
Grod, he was persuaded that he was also serving his 
country in a way that no one else could do. 3 Deeply as 
he deplored the decline of discipline and education 
in his native city, 4 he felt that he could depend but 
little on the Sophists, 5 the moral teachers of his day. 
The attractive powers of his discourse won for him a 
circle of admirers, for the most part consisting of 
young men of family, 6 drawn to him by the most 

iyevojULTiit ' ci 5e ris fiov Xeyouros 2 Xen. Mem. i. 1, 10 ; iii. 10; 

Kalra ijnavrov irpdrroi'Tos i7n,dv/jL€? Plato, Symp., Lysis., Apol. 23, B. 

aKoviiv . . . ov$ev\ ttccttot icpQo- The /j.acrrpoireia "which Socrates 

vnva. Xen. Mem. i. 2, 3 and 31. boasts of, Xen. Symp. 3, 10; 4, 

The assertion of the Epicurean 56, is nothing else. For this art, 

Idomeneus, and of Favorin. in as it is there explained, consists 

Diog. ii. 20, that he gave instruc- in making his friends loveable, 

tion in rhetoric, needs no further by virtue and prudence, 

refutation. 3 Plato, Apol. 30, A.; Gorg. 

1 Proofs in all the dialogues. 521, D. 

See particularly Plato, Apol. 21, 4 Xen. Mem. iii. 5, 13. 

B. ; 23, B. ; Eep. i. 336, B. The 5 Mem. iv. 4, 5. 

Socratic method will be discussed ■ 6 Plato, Apol. 23, C. 
later. 



1 



62 SOCRATES. 

Chap. varied motives, standing to him in various relations, 
III . 

' and coming to him, some for a longer, others for a 

shorter time. 1 For his own part, he made it his 
business not only to educate these friends, but to 
advise them in everything, even in worldly matters. 2 
But out of this changing, and in part loosely con- 
nected, society, a nucleus was gradually formed of de- 
cided admirers, — a Socratic school, which we must 
consider united far less by a common set of doctrines, 
than by a common love for the person of Socrates. 
With more intimate friends he frequently had meals 3 
in common, which, however, can scarcely have been 
a fixed institution. Some few who appeared to him 
to need other instruction, or who did not seem to 
profit by his conversation, he urged to go to other 
teachers, either in addition to, or instead of himself. 4 
He continued to pursue this course with his powers 
of mind unimpaired 5 till his seventieth year. The 
blow which then put an end to his life and his 
activity, will be mentioned hereafter. 

1 Conf. Xen. Mem. i. 2, 14; represent Socrates as an old man, 
iy. 2, iO ; Plato, Theset. 150, D. (as he was when they knew him) 

2 Conf. examples, Mem. ii. 3, 7, without showing any trace of 
8, 9 ; iii. 6, 7. weakness in his mental powers 

3 Xen. Mem. iii. 14. up to the last moment. See also 

4 Plato. Thesetet. 151, B. ; Xen. the definite statement in Mem. iv. 
Mem. iii. 1. 8,8. 

5 Xenophon and Plato mostly 



HIS CHARACTER. 63 



CHAPTEE IV. 

THE CHAKACTER OF SOCRATES. 



Antiquity speaks of the character of Socrates with Chap. 
the greatest esteem. There are, however, a few Iy> 



exceptions, and the prejudices occasioned by his A. The 
condemnation, no doubt survived some time after his ^Uweha- 
death. The followers of Epicurus indulged their mcter °f 

, Socrates. 

love of slander even at his expense, 1 and one voice 
from the Peripatetic School utters scandalous tales 
about his life. As a boy he was said to have been 
disobedient and refractory ; as a youth, profligate ; 
as a man, coarse, importunate, given to sudden bursts 
of anger, and of fiery passions. 2 But the statements 
we have of this kind are so improbable, and the 

1 Cicero de N. D. i. 34, says (Enc. Calv. 81) will have this 
that his teacher, the Epicurean limited to his younger years; that 
Zeno, called him an Attic buf- of Cyril, c. Jul. vi. 185, C. : ot€ 
foon. Epicurus, however, ac- 8e (pKexOeiv virb rod irddovs rov- 
cording to Diog. x. 8, appears to tov fizivyv elvai Ti\v acrxn^uvv-nv • 
have spared him, although he de- ovBevbs yap ovre bvofxaros airo- 
preciated every other philosopher. GxkvQai ovre irpdy^aros ; and ano- 

2 The source from which these ther of Cyril. (180, C.) that 
unfavourable reports come is Aris- Socrates was in other ways tem- 
toxenus. Erom this writer come perate, irpbs 5e ttiv t&v acppoSiaiow 
the following statements ; that XP^^ vtyoSporepov /xhu ehai, aSt- 
mentioned in Porphyry : ws (pvati Kiav 8e fify irpocreivai, t) yap reus 
yeyovos rpaxvs ets bpyi\v, kcCi ottotc yayarais 77 rats kolvcus xprV0c» 
Kparridtiri too iraQsi dia Trdarjs fxovais, and then after the history 
ao'x^oo'vj'Tjs ifiddi&v — Synesius of his bigamy he concludes: efoai 



64 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
IV. 



chief witness is so untrustworthy/ that we cannot 
even infer with certainty, 2 that it cost Socrates a 
severe struggle to "become what he was in after life. 3 



8e <pr}(nv avrhv ev rats bjxiXiais 
alvoos re (piXanexOrjiuLOva /cat Aoi- 
Sopov KaX vfipiarucSv. From the 
same source comes the charge elVot 
5e ai>rbu irpbs ovdev fjikv i<pvrj, 
airaiSevrov Se irepl irdura. Pro- 
bably the story of the physiog- 
nomist Zopyrus is connected with 
these statements, (Cic. Tusc. vi. 
37, 80; De Fat. iv. 10; Alex. 
Aph. De Fato, vi. ; Max. Tyr. xxxi. 
3), who declared Socrates to be 
stupid and profligate, and re- 
ceived from him the answer, that 
by nature lie bad been so, but 
had been changed by reason. Thi s 
account can hardly be historical. 
It looks as if it had been devised 
to illustrate the power of reason 
over a defective natural dispo- 
sition, as illustrated in Plato, 
Symp. 215, 221, B. If the story 
was current in the time of Aris- 
toxenus, he may have used it for 
his picture ; but it is also possible 
that his description produced the 
story, which in this case would 
have an apologetic meaning. The 
name of Zopyrus would lead us 
to think of the Syrian magician, 
who, according to Aristotle in 
Diog. ii. 45, had foretold the 
violent death of Socrates. 

1 As may be already seen from 
the stories about the bigamy, the 
gross ignorance, the violent tem- 
per, and the sensual indulgences 
of Socrates. 

2 As Hermann does, De Socr. 

3 Though this is in itself pos- 
sible, we have no certain author- 
ity for such an assertion. The 
anecdote of Zopyrus is, as already 
remarked, very uncertain, and 



where is the warrant that Aris- 
toxenus followed a really credible 
tradition? He refers, it is true, 
to his father, Spintharus, an actual 
acquaintance of Socrates. But 
the question arises whether this 
statement is more trustworthy 
than the rest. The chronology is 
against it, and still more so is the 
substance of what Spintharus 
says. It may also be asked whe- 
ther Spintharus spoke the truth, 
when he professed to have wit- 
nessed outbursts of anger in So- 
crates, although he can only have 
known him in his later years, and 
certainly we have no reason to 
place more confidence in him than 
in his son. Lastly, Aristoxenus 
does not confine his remarks to 
the youth of Socrates, but they 
are of a most general character, 
or refer distinctly to his later 
years. Luzac would appear to 
have hit the truth when he makes 
Aristoxenus responsible for all 
these statements. For Aristoxe- 
nus appears not only to have 
carried his warfare with the So- 
cratic Schools against the person 
of Socrates, but to have indulged 
in the most capricious and un- 
founded inferences. His over- 
drawn imagination makes So- 
crates as a boy dissatisfied with 
his father's business, and makes 
him afterwards pass his life about 
the streets. In the same way he 
finds that Socrates must have 
been a man without culture, be- 
cause of expressions such as that 
in the Apology, 17, B^ or that in 
the Symp. 221, E.; violent in 
temper, in support of which he 



HIS CHARACTER. 65 



IV. 



Our most reliable authorities only know of him as a Chap. 
perfect man, to whom they look up with respect, and 
whom they regard as the exemplar of humanity and 
morality, 6 No one,' says Xenophon, ' ever heard or 
saw anything wicked in Socrates ; he was so pious, 
that he did nothing without consulting the Gods, 
so just that he never injured any one in the slightest 
degree, so self-controlled that he never preferred 
pleasure to goodness, so sensible that he never made 
a mistake in deciding between what was better and 
what was worse. In a word, he was the best and 
happiest of men.' l 

This description represents Socrates as a pattern 
of abstemiousness, of self-denial, and of self-mastery, 
as a man of religious feeling and love for his country, 
and of unbending fidelity to his convictions, as a sen- 
sible and trustworthy adviser both for the bodies and 
souls of his friends, as an agreeable and affable 
companion, with a happy combination of cheerful- 
ness and seriousness ; and more than all, as an 
unwearied trainer, of character, using ever) 7 oppor- 
tunity of bringing all with whom he came into 
contact to virtue and self-knowledge, and endeavour- 
ing especially to counteract the self-esteem and 
light-mindedness of youth. Plato repeats the same 
of him. He too calls his teacher the best, the most 
sensible, and the most just man of his age, 2 and he 
never tires of praising his simplicity, his moderation, 
and his control over the desires and wants of the 

refers to Symp. 214, D.; and dis- Mem. ii. 2, 4. 
solute because of his supposed l Mem. i. 1, 11 ; iv. 8, 11. 
"bigamy, and the words in Xen. 2 See the end of the Phgedo. 

F 



66 SOCRATES. 

Chap. senses. He represents him as imbued with the 
' deepest religious feeling in all his doings, as devoting 
his whole life to the service of the Grods, and dying 
a martyr's death because of his obedience to the 
divine voice ; and, like Xenophon, he describes this 
service as the exercise of a universal moral influence 
on others, and particularly on youth. His picture 
too brings before us the real kindness, the Athenian 
polish, the sparkling cheerfulness and pleasing 
humour which light up the more serious side in the 
character of Socrates. Of his social virtues and his 
political courage Plato speaks in the same terms as 
Xenophon, and adds moreover an admirable descrip- 
tion of his military services. 1 Every touch from his 
pen serves to increase the lustre of that picture of 
moral greatness, which appears all the more wonder- 
ful from its very originality, and from the absence of 
all that is studied and affected, owing, as it does, its 
charm to a perfectly unadorned simplicity. 2 
B. His But besides being an original growth, the Socratic 

licenced tyP e °^ virtue bears, throughout, the peculiar impress 

by Grecian f the Greek mind. Socrates is not the insipid ideal 
peculi- 
arities 

1 See page 60, note 4. Ira, i. 15,3; iii. 11, 2 ; ii. 7, 1 ; 

2 Most of the further traits and Tranqu. An. 5, 2; 17, 4; Epist. 
anecdotes recorded by later wri- 104, 27; Plin. H. Nat. vii. 18; 
ters are in harmony with this Pint. Ednc. Pu. 14 ; De Adulat. 
view of Socrates. Some of them 32; Coh. Ira, 4 ; Tranqu. An. 10 ; 
are certainly fictions. Others Garrulit. 20 ; Diog. ii. 21, 24, 27, 
may be taken from writings of 30 ; vi. 8 ; Grell. N. A, ii. 1 ; xix. 
pupils of Socrates, which have 9, 9 ; Val. Max. viii. 8 ; iElian, 
been since lost, or from other V. H. i. 16; ii. 11, 13, 36; iii. 
trustworthy sources. They may 28; ix. 7, 29; xii. 15; xiii. 27, 
be found in the following places. 32; Athen. iv. 157; Stob. Flor. 
Cic. Tusc. iii. 15, 31 ; Off. i. 26 and 17, 17 and 22. 

90; Seneca, De Const, 18, 5; De 



HIS CHARACTER. 67 

of virtue, which a sentimental hero-worship would Chap. 

make him, but he is a thorough Greek, the very ; 

marrow, as it were, of his nation, possessed of flesh 
and blood, and not merely the universal moral 
standard for all time. The moderation so much 
lauded in him is free from the ascetic element, 
which always seems to be suggested by it in modern 
times. Socrates enjoys good company, although he 
avoids noisy carousals ; l and if he does not make the 
pleasures of the senses an object in life, no more does 
he avoid them, when they are offered to him, nay, 
not even when in excess. Thus there is a call for 
small cups in Xenophon's banquet, not for fear of 
indulging too largely, but that exhilaration may not 
be too rapid. 2 In Plato he boasts that he is equally 
well able to take much or little, that he can surpass 
all in drinking, without ever being intoxicated him- 
self, 3 and he is represented at the close of the 
banquet, after a night spent over the bowl, as 
pursuing his daily work as if nothing had happened, 
when all his boon companions were suffering from 
ill consequences. Moderation appears with him to 
consist, not in total abstinence from pleasure, but in 
perfect mental freedom, — a freedom which neither 
requires pleasure, nor is ever overtaken by its 
seductive influence. His abstemiousness in other 
points is also recorded with admiration, 4 but nume- 

1 Plato, Symp. 220, A. OSpfvoi, Trpbs rb Traiyi/icaBeo-rtpop 

2 Xen. Mem. 2, 26 : t\v 5e a<f>i£«/*e0a. 

tj/juu oi TrcuSes yuKpais kvAl^l ttvkvcl 3 Symp. 176, C. ; 220, A. ; 213, 

iirvtyeKafaaiv, ourtas ov $ia£6p.evoi E. 

xnrb rovou'ov yedveiv, a\K avairet,- 4 Xen. Mem. i. 2, 1 ; 3, 14. 

F 2 



68 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
IV. 



rous passages in Xenophon's ' Memorabilia ' J prove 
that his morality was far below our standard of rigid 
adherence to principles. The Grecian peculiarity of 
a love for boys marks his relations to youth, but his 
character is above all susnicion of actual vice, 2 as is 
shown by the irony with which he treats a supposed 
love-affair of his own. 3 At the same time, what Greek 
in the presence of youthful beauty was proof against 
a certain element of aesthetic pleasure, which if it 
was the ground and origin, was at any rate an in- 
nocent one in his case, of deeper affection ? 4 The 
odious excrescences of Greek morality called forth 
his severest censure, but at the same time, according 
to Xenophon, 6 and iEschines, 6 and Plato, 7 Socrates 
designated his own relations to his younger friends 



We have already seen that Aris- 
toxenus and his followers cannot 
make the contrary probable. 

1 i. 3, 14 ; ii. 1, 5 ; 2, 4 ; iii. 
11; iv. 5, 9. 

2 The cotenrporaries of Socrates 
seem to have found nothing to 
object to in his love of boys. 
Not only is there no allusion to 
it in the judicial charge, but not 
even in Aristophanes, who would 
undoubtedly have magnified the 
smallest suspicion into the grav- 
est charge. The other comic 
poets, according to Athen., v. 219, 
seem to have known nothing of 
it. Just as little does Xenophon 
think it necessary to refute this 
calumny, and therefore the well- 
known story of Plato's banquet 
has for its object far more the 
glorification than the justification 
of his teacher. On the other 
hand, the relations of Socrates to 



Alcibiades, in the verses purpor- 
ting to be written by Aspasia, 
which Athena?us communicates 
on the authority of Herodicus, 
have a very suspicious look, and 
Juvenal (Sat. ii. 10) does not 
hesitate to charge Socrates with 
the reigning dissoluteness of 
manners. 

3 Xen. Mem. iv. 1, 2; Svmp. 
4, 27; Plato, Symp. 213," C; 
216, D.: 222, B. 

4 Xen. Mem. i. 2, 29 ; 3, 8 ; 
Sym. 8, 19. 

5 Symp. 8, 2 and 24 ; Mem. iv. 
1, 2. 

6 In his Alcibiades he speaks 
of the love of Socrates for Alci- 
biades. See Arist. Or. xlv. irepl 

pr]TOpiK7]S. 

7 Prot. beginning; Symp. 177, 
D.; 218, B.; 222, A.; not to men- 
tion other expressions for which 
Plato is answerable. 



HIS CHARACTER. 



m 



by the name of Eros, or a passionate attachment Chap. 

grounded on sesthetic feeling. Not otherwise may '__ 

Grecian peculiarities be observed in his ethical or 
political viewSj while his theology is confined by the 
trammels of the popular belief. How deeply these 
peculiarities had influenced his character, may be 
seen not only in his simple obedience ! to the laws of 
his country throughout life, and his genuine respect 
for the state religion, 2 but far more also in the trials 
of his last days, when for fear of violating the laws, 
he scorned the ordinary practices of defence, and 
after his condemnation refused to escape from prison. 3 
Truly the epitaph which Simonides inscribed on the 
tomb of Leonidas might be inscribed on that of 
Socrates : He died to obey the state. 4 

But fully as Socrates was imbued with all the C. Pro- 



minent 



peculiarities of a Greek, there is a something in tra i ts 



1 Plato, Apol. 28, E. 

2 Xenophon, Mem. i. 1, 2, as- 
sures us not only that Socrates 
took part in the public sacrifices, 
but that he was frequently in the 
habit of sacrificing at home. In 
Plato he invokes Helios, Symp. 
220, D. ; and his last words, ac- 
cording to the Phsedo, 118, A., 
were an earnest commission to 
Crito to offer a cock to iEscula- 
pius. A belief in oracles is also 
very frequently mentioned, which 
he always obeved conscientiously 
(Mem. i. 3, 4 ; Plato, Apol. 21, B.) 
and the use of which he recom- 
mended to his friends (Xen. Mem. 
ii. 6, 8; iv. 7, 10; Anabas. iii. 
1,5). He was himself fully per- 
suaded that he possessed an 
oracle in the truest sense, in the 



inward voice of his Zaiix6viov, and 
he also believed in dreams and 
similar prognostications. (Plato, 
Crito, 44, A. ; Phsedo, 60, D. ; 
Apol. 33, C.) 

3 This motive is represented 
by Xenophon (Mem. iv. 4, 4), and 
Plato (Apol. 34, D.; Phsedo, 98, 
C.) as the decisive one, although 
the Crito makes it appear that a 
flight from Athens would have 
done no good to himself, and 
much harm to his friends and 
dependants. The Apology speaks 
as if entreating the judges were 
unworthy of the speaker and his 
country. 

4 Xen. says : irpodXero fiaWov 
ro7s vojxols i/j.{x€j/ccp anodavelu fy 
Trapavo/JLuy Qfjv. 



70 SOCRATES. 

Chap. his appearance which is decidedly unlike a Greek, 
' nay, which has even a foreign and almost modern 
his cha- aspect. This it was which made him appear to his 
cotemporaries a thoroughly eccentric and singular 
person. This something, which they described by 
one word as his singularity, 1 consisted, according to 
Plato's account, 2 in what any Greek would have 
found difficulty in understanding — a want of agree- 
ment between his outward appearance and his in- 
ward and real nature. In this respect he presents a 
striking contrast to the usual classic type, which 
consists in a harmonious union of the outer and the 
inner world. On the one hand we behold Socrates 
indifferent to the outer worl$, and thus entirely 
unlike his countrymen; on the other hand, deeply 
sunk in meditation — a feature unknown before — 
sometimes even so deeply as to lose the conscious- 
ness of his own personality. Owing to the former, 
there is a something stiff and awkward about him, 
sharply contrasting with the graceful sweetness and 
the artistic beauty of life in Greece — we might 
almost call him a Philistine — and the other shows 
itself in a way that looks like the working of a 
higher revelation, having its seat within in the 
recesses of the soul, in which light it was regarded 
by Socrates himself. In their account of these two 
peculiarities both Plato and Xenophon are agreed. 

1 Plato, Symp. 221, C. : UoWa fxdros .... olos 5e ourocrl yeyove 

fxkv olv &v ris Kal &A\a %X 0L r ^ v UTOwiav izvOpwiros koX avrbs 

^coKparrj iiraipeo-cu Kal dav/j-daia Kal ol A6yoi avrov ou5 5 eyyvs av 

. . . . rb 5e /mrj^evl avOpdwcav oiaolov evpoi ris Qr)roov, ovre twv vvy ovre 

slvai, fiif}T€ reap iraXaioov /xrjTe twv t6l>v ira\ai<2v. 

vvv ovtqw, tovto tyov iravrbs dav- 2 Symp. 215, A. ; 221, E. 



HIS CHARACTER. 71 

Even the outward appearance of Socrates, which c i^ p - 

Alcibiades in Plato, 1 and Socrates himself in Xeno- 

phon 2 compares with so much humour to Silenus, 
must to the eye of the Greek have seemed rather 
like a veil to conceal, than an instrument to express 
the presence of genius. A certain amount of intel- 
lectual stiffness, and an indifference to what was 
sensibly beautiful also expressed itself in his conduct 
and conversation. Take for instance the process of 
catechising given in the ' Memorabilia,' 3 by which 
Hipparchus is brought to a knowledge of his duties, 
or the formality with which things, 4 long familiar to 
his hearers, are proved, or again the way in which 
the idea of the beautiful is reduced to that of the 
useful. 5 Or hear him advising conduct, which to us 
seems simply abominable, 6 on grounds of expediency, 
or in the Phaedrus 7 refusing to walk out because he 
can learn nothing from trees and the country. Or see 
him according to Xenophon's account of the banquet, 8 
in opposition to the universal custom of the ancients, 
dancing alone and at home, 9 in order to gain health- 

1 Symp. 215; Conf. Theaet. 14,3, a\\a \xivToi aoi ye &e? x a p' L ( e(r 9 a h 
E. c6<7T€ kav oKiyov e% fie K€\evois 

2 Symp. 4, 19; 2, 19;Epicte- airodvvra opxvcroLffOai, xapuraifjurij/ 
tus (Diss. iv. 11, 19) gives &>; and Cicero pro Mur. 6 : Ne- 
Socrates a pleasing appearance, mo fere saltat sobrius, nis 
but this is of course quite unte- forte insanit; De Offic. lii. 19 
nable. Dares hanc vim M. Crasso, in 

3 iii. 3. foro, mihi crede, saltaret; also 

4 iii. 10, 9; iii. 11. the expressions in Xenophon: s O/> 

5 iii. 8, 4. xh (T0 } Ji0LL "4 Am. 'Euravda Br] iyi- 

6 i. 3, 14. Xaaav awavres. And when Char- 

7 230, D. mides found Socrates dancing : rb 

8 2, 17. fievyeirpooTov 4£€ir\dyrivKa\%deio , a, 

9 Compare Menexenus, 236, C. : ^7] fxaivoio, k. t. X. 



72 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
IV. 



D. His 
peculiar 
mental 
pheno- 
mena. 



ful exercise, and justifying his conduct by curious 
reflections ; even at table l unable to forget con- 
siderations of utility. Taking these and similar 
traits into account, there appears in the conduct of 
Socrates a certain want of imagination, a one-sided 
prominence of the critical and intellectual faculties, 
in short a want of taste which clashes with the 
poetry of Grecian life, and the delicate refinement 
of an Athenian. Even Alcibiades 2 allows, in Plato, 
that the discourses of Socrates appear ridiculous and 
rude at first sight, since they always concern beasts 
of burden, smiths, tailors, and tanners. Was not this 
the very objection raised by Xenophon? 3 How 
strange that plain unadorned common sense must 
have appeared to his cotemporaries with its shrinking 
from all set modes of speech, forms, and its simple 
use of plain and intelligible expressions ! 

It was not however produced by any lack of taste. 
On the contrary, it resulted from the profound origin- 
ality of his ideas, for which customary expressions 
were insufficient. The soul of the philosopher diving 
into its own recesses was sometimes so far absent as 
to be insensible to external impressions, and at other 
times poured forth enigmatical utterances, which 
appeared strange to it in a wakeful state. It not 



1 Xen. Svmp. 3, 2. 

2 Symp. 221, E. 

3 Mem. i. 2, 37 : 'O 5e Kpirias ' 
aWa twv 5e rol o"e a7re'xecr0cu, ecpr], 

KOLl T&U TZKTOVCdV KO.X T&V X a ^ K€WI/ > 

not yap officii avrovs tJBtj itara- 
TerplcpQai dia8pv\ovfi4uovs virb gov. 



Again in iv. 4, 6 : koX 6 fiev 
'Imrias ' in yap nv, ecpr), & 'SvKpa- 
res, 6Ke?va ra avra Keyeis, a £yu 
ird\ai irore crov i]Kovaa. The 
same complaint and the same 
answer is met with in Plato's 
G-orgias, 490, E. 



HIS CHARACTER. 73 

unfrequently happened to Socrates with his serious- Chap. 

ness and love of meditation, 1 that his thoughts wan- '_ 

dered and remained for a longer or shorter time 
absent and indifferent to the outer world. 2 But as 
he watched with careful eye all that transpired within, 
endeavouring to let nothing escape him, he dis- 
covered a residuum of feelings and impulses, which 
could not be explained from what he knew of his 
own inner life. This he regarded in the light of a 
divine revelation, and believed that he enjoyed it in 
that particular form which goes by the name of the { 
Dasmonium. He was, therefore, not only convinced 
that he stood and acted in the service of Grod in 
general, but he also held that special supernatural 
suggestions were communicated to him. 

It was a common thing even among the ancients 0) False 
. t ... ,. ,-. i ,. r. news about 

to regard these suggestions as the revelations of a t ^ $ at _ 

special and personal genius, 3 and in modern times ^ vl0V - 

1 Accordingly in the Aristo- scriptions of Xenophon and Plato, 
telian problems, xxx. 1, he is since it does not recur for some 
reckoned amongst the melan- time, even in spurious works at- 
choly, which is not at variance tributed to them. Even Cicero, 
with the gentle obstinacy (rb Divin. i. 54, 122, does not trans- 
(Tr6.(Ti^ov) which Aristotle (Ehet. late dai^oviou by genius, but by 
ii. 15) assigns to him. 'divinum quoddam,' and doubt- 

2 Plato, Symp. 174, D. ; 220, C. less Antipater, whose work he was 
According to the latter passage, quoting, took it in the same sense. 
Socrates was once twenty-four But in Christian times the belief 
hours in this state, and remained in a genius became universal, 
the whole time in one spot. because it fell in with the current 

3 The bill of accusation against belief in daemons. Por instance, 
Socrates seems to have understood Plut. De Cenio Socratis, c. 20 ; 
the dai/jioviov in this sense, since Max. Tyr. xiv. 3 ; Apuleius, De 
it charges him with introducing Deo Socrates, the Neoplatonists, 
erepa Kaiva daifiovia in the place and the Fathers, who are how- 
of the gods of the state. After- ever not agreed whether his genius 
wards this view appears to have was a good one or a bad one. 
been dropped, thanks to the de- Plutarch, however, and after him 



74 SOCRATES. 

Chap. this view for a long time continued to hold its 
IV 

' ground. 1 No doubt it was a sad thing in the eyes 

of enlightened admirers, that a man so sensible as 

Socrates, should have laboured under a fanatical 

delusion; nor were attempts wanting to excuse him, 

either on the ground of the universal superstition of 

his age and nation, or because he was believed to 

have a physical tendency to fanaticism. 2 Some even 

ventured to assert that his claim to supernatural 

revelations was a piece of shrewd calculation, 3 or 

that it was one form of his celebrated irony. 4 But 

how can the last-named view be reconciled with the 

language which, on the testimony of both Plato and 

Xenophon, he used of the suggestions of the Daenio- 

nium, or with the value which he attaches to these 

suggestions on the most important occasions ? 5 And 

to refer the Daemonium to the irritability of a sickly 

body, cannot fall far short of asserting that it is 

Apuleius, mention the view that their' melancholy temperament. 

by the fiaiixoviov must be under- The personality of the daemon is 

stood the power of vague appre- not however called in question 

hension, by means of which he by him or by his supporters, 

could guess the future from pro- Modern writers took refuge in 

gnostications or natural signs. the same hypothesis in order 

1 Compare Tiedemann, Geist to explain in Socrates the possi- 
der spekulat. Philosophic, ii. 16 ; bility of a superstitious belief in 
Meiners, Ueber den Grenius des a Saifioviov. For instance, Tiede- 
Sokr. (Verm. Schriften, iii. 1) ; mann, Meiners, Schwarze, Krug. 
Buhle, Krug, &c. 3 Plessing, Osiris and So- 

2 The first-named excuse is a crates, 185. 

very common one. Marsilius Fi- 4 Fraguier, Sur l'ironie de So- 

cinus ( Theol. Platon. xiii. 2) crate, in the Memoires de 1'Aca- 

assumed in Socrates, as well as demie des Inscriptions, iv. 368. 

in other philosophers, a peculiar Also Eollin in his Histoire an- 

bodily disposition for ecstasy, cienne, ix. 4, 2 ; and Barthelemy, 

when he refers their susceptibility Voyage du jeune Anacharsis. 

for supernatural revelations to 3 Xen. Mem. iv. 8, 4. 



HIS CHARACTER. 



75 



identical with the monomania of a diseased mind, 
and reduces the great reformer of philosophy to the 
level of a madman. 1 But all these explanations can 
be dispensed with, now that Schleiermacher, 2 with the 
general approbation of the most competent judges, 3 
has established it as a fact, that by the Dsemonium 
in the sense of Socrates, no genius, no separate and 
distinct person, can be understood, but only some 
supernatural voice or divine revelation in general. 
No passage in Plato or Xenophon speaks of Socrates 
holding intercourse with a genius. 4 We only hear 
of divine or supernatural signs, 5 of a voice heard by 
Socrates, 6 of some supernatural guidance, by which 
many warnings were vouchsafed to him. 7 All that 



1 Many have spoken of the 
superstition and fanaticism of So- 
crates in a more modest way, but 
comparatively recently Lelut has 
boldly asserted, ' que Socrate etait 
un fou ' — a category, in which he 
places amongst others not only 
Cardan and Swedenborg, but 
Luther, Pascal and Rousseau. 
His chief argument is the state- 
ment that Socrates not only be- 
lieved in a real and personal 
genius, but believed that in his 
hallucinations he audibly heard its 
voice. Those who rightly under- 
stand Plato, and can distinguish 
what is genuine from what is 
false, will not need a refutation 
of these untruths. 

2 Platon's Werke, i. 2, 432. 

3 Brandis, Bitter, Hermann, 
Socher, Cousin, Kresche. Com- 
pare Hegel and Ast. 

4 The passage Mem. i. 4, 14 : 
orau ol deol ■n^fx-nuKTiv, uxrvep o~o\ 
<prjs 7re^7reij/ avrovs (rvpfiovKovs, 



Chap. 
IV. 



(b) Scklei- 
er?nacher , s. 



proves nothing, as o~vfjL&ou\ovs is 
used as a metonym for avfifiov- 
Xds. 

6 Plato, Phsedr. 242, B. : rb 5c«- 
fx6viov T6 KaX to eiwdbs o"r)fAsi6v 
fioi yiyv€(rdai iyevero, koll vivo. 
Qccvtjv !5o£a avrSSe aKovcrcu. Hep. 
iv. 496, C. : to dai/aoviov o"r)\i.^iov. 
Euthy. 272, E. : iyevero rb eloodbs 
(Trifie'iov, rb haifi6viov. Apol. 40 : 
rb rov Oeov o"f\^1ov. 

6 Plato, Apol. 31, D.: ifxol 5e 
tout' itrrlv 4k ira&bs ap£d/jL€i/ov, 
(pcovr) ris yiyvofihr]. 

7 Plato passim : on fxoi dsiov ri 
kol\ b*atfi6viov yiyvercu. Also 40, A : 
7} eiwdvld fxoi fiavriK^j y\ rov Saifxo- 
viov. Theset. 151, A. : rb yiyvo^vov 
/jLoi Saifxoviov. — Euthyphro 3, B. : 
'6tl hi] uv to daijAoviov (pfjs ffavrcp 
eKaarore yiypeadai, — Xen. Mem. 
i. 1, 4 : rb ^aijx6viov ecpr] equal* 
yew. iv. 1, 5 : 7]vavridodr) rb 8cu- 
IJ.6viou. Symp. 8,5. Even the spu- 
rious writings do not go further, 
and whatever the romance of the 



76 SOCRATES. 



IV. 



Chap. these expressions imply is, that Socrates was conscious 
to himself of a divine revelation, but of the source 
whence it came they say absolutely nothing, nay 
their very indefiniteness proves clearly enough, that 
neither Socrates nor his pupils had any very clear 
notion on the subject. 1 They generally refer to the 
fitness or unfitness of certain actions to attain their 
ends. 2 Sometimes a sign from the Dsemonium stops 
him from carrying out his own intentions ; at other 
times, it urges him to warn friends of ill-success 
awaiting them, and to dissuade them from their 
plans. It imparts neither philosophical principles 
nor moral maxims. Indeed the whole province of 
morals is expressly exempted from the sphere of 
divine revelation, and referred to that of human 
reason. 3 The Bac/movtov is therefore an internal oracle, 

Theages. 128, D., about the pro- however, Socrates assures us that 

phetic character of the daipSviov the Scuiaoviov only restrained him 

may mean, the expressions used from carrying out his intentions, 

are very indefinite. but never urged him on, and in 

1 It is very much the same all the other passages in which 
whether rh dcu/jiduiov be taken as the SaifAoviov is mentioned, even 
a substantive, or as an adjective. Mem. iv. 8, 5, it appears only as 
The probable rights of the case restraining and never as prompt- 
are that Xenophon uses it as a ing. The apparent contradiction 
substantive = rb deiov or 6 debs, has been done away with by the 
whereas Plato uses it as an adjec- statement, that Plato is here more 
tive, and says Souiaoviov fxoi jlyve- accurate, and that the haiiioviov 
toll. The very difference between worked directly as a restraining 
Xenophon and Plato proves how power, and only indirectly as an 
loosely it was used by Socrates. incentive, in as far as not to for- 

2 On this point our authorities bid is to allow, and to forbid one 
are not agreed. Xen. Mem. i. 4, thing is to advise its opposite, 
says : iro\\o7s rodv ^vvovroov irpoo-r}- 3 Compare besides the passages 
yopeve ra fiev iroieiv, ra 5e fxr] already quoted, Xen. Mem. i. 1, 
iroielv, cos rod fiaifjioviov TrpoarjjUiai- 6 : ra fxev avayKcua crvvefiovXeve 
vovtos. Likewise in Mem. iv. 3, 12, koX Trpdrretv oos evdjxi^ev apiorr Uv 
the Grods announce to Socrates a TrpaxQyvai • 7repi 8e nG>v adrjXcou 
re xph voielv kol a ^7). In Plato oircas "hv airo^aoiro /uavTevo-Ofie- 



HIS CHARACTER. 77 

and as such it is by Xenophon l and Plato 2 included Chap. 

under the more general notion of divination, and ' 

placed on a par with divination by sacrifice and 

the flight of birds. 

In attempting to bring this inward revelation of 

Socrates into harmony with the facts of psychology, it 

may be laid down in the first place that the Dsemo- 

nium must not be confounded with the voice of consci- 

ence, as many ancient and modern critics have done. 3 ( c ) It is 

Conscience always refers to the moral character of not COll ~ 
J science. 

an action, partly by laying down a law and thus de- 
termining the universal moral standard, and partly 
by sitting in judgment and acting as a regulating 
power, when past or possible actions are arraigned 
before its tribunal. The Saifioviov has nothing to do 
with the universal moral standard — which, according 
to Socrates, is a matter for pure intelligence to deter- 
mine — still less has it to do with the moral quality of 
an action already past. Even actions in prospect, 
which alone are the subject of its warnings, it does not 

vovs eirefxirev el rroLrjrea — t€kto- to the Socratic fiavriKT] or the 

viKov fxev yap r) x^A/ceim/fbi/ rj ye- haiixoviov. Conf. ALeni. iv. 3, 12, 

oipyiKov r) avdpanrccv apxiicbv r) rwv where the remark that the Gods 

tolovtuu epyoov i^eracrriKhv r) \o- announce to Socrates beforehand 

yHTTutbv r) oiKouofxiKhv rj crrparri- what he 'ought to do, is satisfac- 

yitcbv yevecdai. irdvra ra roiavra torily explained by the words 

fj.a9rjfj.ara /cat avdpcvirov yvcotxr) at- that precede : 81a, fxavr iK.r)s rols 

perea ev6/j.i(ev elvai ■ ra de fxiyicrra irvvQavofievois (ppd(ovras ra airofSrj- 

r(av iv rovrois ecpr) robs Oeovs eav- aofxeva, KaldiBdcrKovrasfj av aptcrra 

ro7s KaraXe'nreadaL. The future yiyvoiro. "Kpiarov here is what 

outward result of an action is is most useful, 
however what is greatest. And * Xen. Mem, i. 1, 3 ; iv. 3, 12 ; 

then he continues: Sai/jLovav 5e i. 4, 14. 

robs fj.avrevofj.4i/ovs, a ru?s avQpw- 2 Apol. 40, A. ; Phsed. 242, C. : 

ttois eSamav 01 deol fiaQovo-L 5ta- Euthyphro 3, B. 
Kpiveiv, &c. "What is here said 3 Stapfer, Brandis, Botscher, 

of fxavTiKT} in general applies also 3Iarbach. 



78 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
IV. 



(d) Not a 

general 

conviction 

of his 

divine 

'mission. 



deal with according to their moral worth, but solely 
according to their results — results concealed from us 
and locked up in the divine foreknowledge — and for 
these Socrates either has recourse to /jlclvtlkt) in 
general, or to his Scll/jlovlcv, leaving moral conduct to 
be determined by clear knowledge. In Xenophon 
he is heard to say that it is absurd to consult the 
Gods about things which may be known by delibera- 
tion ; and we might have inferred that deliberation 
would be the condition of morality in his system, even 
if there were less explicit statements to guide us, from 
the fact that he makes virtue consist in knowledge. 1 
Just as little must the divine voice of Socrates be 
confounded with a general belief in his own divine 
mission : 2 for it is only occasionally that actions 
are referred to the former. Thus in particular 
cases it dissuades Socrates from receiving back into 
his society 3 friends who have once deserted him; 
but when the general question is asked : What led 
Socrates to the study of philosophy, the answer is 
not given by reference to the Daemonium, but to the 
leading of providence, 4 which in various ways has 
impressed on him this duty. 5 The Daemonium only 
influenced the mission of his life in one, and that a 
very indirect way, by restraining him from inter- 
meddling with politics, and thus proving faithless to 
his philosophic bent. 6 In addition to this, Plato's 



1 Socrates enumerates among 
the things which are in the 
power of man, avdpca-rrwv apx^bu 
yevecrdaL. — 3Iem. i. 1, 7; iii. 9, 14. 

2 As both Kleiners and Lelnt 
have done. 



3 Theatfet. 151. A. 

4 Plato, Apol. 23, B. ; 28 B. ; 
Theastet. 150, C. 

5 Plato, Apol. 33. C. 

6 Plato. Rep. vi. 496, B. ; Apol. 
31. C. 



HIS CHARACTER. \ 

remark that the Daemonium never urged him on, but Chap. 

. IV 
only kept him back, refutes the notion of a general '_ 

guiding influence. On the whole then the psycho- 
logical explanation of the phenomenon will be found 
to be the same as that given by most modern writers. 
The Daemonium is a vague apprehension of some 
good or ill result following on certain actions. It is, 
as it were, an inward voice coming from his own 
individual tact, 1 which as a boy Socrates had carefully 
cultivated. 2 It attained an unusual degree of accuracy 
in his case 3 — partly owing to subsequent experience 
and a keen susceptibility, partly from a knowledge 
of himself and his own needs ; and in default of a 
better psychological knowledge which could explain 
it, it presented itself to him in a form agreeing with 
the spirit of his times, 4 that of an immediate divine 
revelation. 

But common as is the notion of a supernatural 
revelation, the particular form in which it was held 
by Socrates is thoroughly characteristic. Hegel 

1 Hermann,Platonisnius,i.236. except by a plain statement of 

2 We are compelled to include the truth. To him it appeared 
this amongst the peculiarities of as if Grod had revealed to him 
the 8ai/j.6viou, partly because of that it was better not to make 
the remark already quoted from any preparation. 

the Thesetet. 151, A., and partly 3 All the more accurate state- 

because of the notices (Xen. ments given by Xenophon (Mem. 

Mem. iv. 8, 5; Apol. 4), that iv. 8, 5) and Plato (Apol. 31, 

Socrates was prevented by the D. ; 40, A. ; Thegetet. 151, A. ; 

Scu/jloploi/ from defending himself Ph?edrus, 242, B.) about the sug- 

before the court. The real reason gestions of the Bai/j.6viov agree 

which deterred him was that to with this. The later love of the 

busy himself with his own fate marvellous led to all sorts of 

was opposed to his philosophical romantic stories about it, as even 

character, and that it was against Cicero, Divin. i. 54, proves, 

his nature, to defend himself 4 Krische, Porschung. 231. 



80 SOCRATES. 

Chap. appropriately remarks l that in the Dsemonium of 
• Socrates may be seen the beginnings of that gradual 
change of opinion from the time when external 
agencies were regarded as determining the will — as 
was the case in the Greek oracles — to the time when 
the power of origination is felt solely to belong to 
ourselves. Thus, by substituting the immediate utter- 
ances of his inner life in place of the usual signs and 
oracular appeals, Socrates brought within the province 
of the mind, what had hitherto ruled it from without. 
At the same time this forward step was not altogether 
without a compensating drawback. The mind when 
first disenthralled and placed in a position to exercise 
it own freedom, could not at once trust its own 
decisions in every case, but allowed any indefinite 
impulses which claimed to be divine revelations to 
prevail against the dictates of its own intelligence. 
The Dsemonium of Socrates was not therefore So- 
crates himself, but a kind of oracle ; his mind, but 
his mind only half conscious of itself. 2 

This brings out the importance of the phenome- 
non. It reveals the inner life of Socrates down to 
its inmost depths, but it proves also that it was as 
yet impossible for the whole of life to be regulated 
according to the dictates of an intelligent will. 
Illustrations of this have been already noticed in 
those instances of absence of mind in Socrates, 
and they may also be observed in the stiffness and 
awkwardness of his demeanour. It can thus be 

1 Kechts philosophic, § 279. 2 Hegel, Gesch. d. Phil. ii. 77. 



HIS CHARACTER. 81 

understood, that features apparently so different, as Chap. 
the sober sense of the man of intellect and the ' 

fanaticism of the man of feeling could be combined 
in one and the same person, for both were due to 
one and the same cause. Depth of inward concen- 
tration distinguished Socrates from his contem- 
poraries, and made him appear so singular to his 
countrymen. 

It also made an irreparable breach in the artistic 
unity of Greek life. The gradual widening of that 
breach, and the shape it assumed in the philosophy 
of Socrates, will occupy our attention hereafter, when 
we come to consider his philosophical system. 



82 SOCIIATES. 



CHAPTER V. 

THE SOURCES AND CHARACTERISTICS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
OF SOCRATES. 

Chap. There is considerable difficulty in arriving at an 
y - accurate view of the philosophy of Socrates, owing 
A. Xeno- to the discrepancies in the accounts of the original 
Vlato nCl authorities. Socrates himself committed nothing to 
writing, 1 and there are only the works of two of 
his pupils, Xenophon and Plato, preserved, in which 
he is made to speak in his own person. 2 But the 
accounts of these two writers are so little alike, that 
we gather from the one quite a different view of the 
teaching of Socrates to what the other gives us. 
It was the fashion among early historians of philoso- 
phy to construct a picture of the Athenian philoso- 
pher, without any principles of criticism to guide 
them, from the writings of Xenophon and Plato 
indiscriminately, as well as from later, and for the 

1 The unimportant poetical that Socrates committed nothing 

attempts of his last days (Plato, to writing is clear from the silence 

Pha?do, 60, C.) could hardly be of Xenophon, Plato, and all an- 

taken into account, even if they tiquity on the point, not to mention 

were extant. They appear, how- the positive testimony of Cic. de 

ever, to have been very soon lost. Orat. iii. 16, 60; I)iog. i. 16; 

See Diog. ii. 42. The genuine- Plut. De Alex. Yirt. i. 4. 

ness of the Socratic letters need 2 For instance, those of JEs- 

not occupy us for a moment, and chines, Antisthenes, Phaedo. 



AUTHORITIES FOR HIS PHILOSOPHY. ] 83 

most part untrustworthy authorities. Since the time Chap. 
of Brueker, however, it became the custom to look ' 

to Xenophon as the only authority to be perfectly 
trusted on the philosophy of Socrates, and to allow 
to others, Plato included, at most only a supple- 
mentary value. Quite recently, however, Schleier- 
macher has lodged a protest against the preference 
shown for Xenophon. 1 Xenophon, he argues, not 
being a philosopher himself, was scarcely capable of 
understanding a philosopher like Socrates ; the object, 
moreover, of the Memorabilia was only a limited 
one, to defend his teacher from definite charges ; we 
are therefore justified in assuming a priori that there 
must have been more in Socrates than Xenophon 
allows, or else he could not have played so important 
a part in the history of philosophy, nor have exerted 
so marvellous a power of attraction on the most 
intellectual and cultivated men of his time. The 
character too which is given him by Plato, would 
have otherwise been a manifest contradiction of the 
picture presented by him to the mind of his reader. 
Besides, Xenophon's dialogues create the impres- 
sion, that philosophic matter has been put into the 
unphilosophic language of every-day life, with de- 
triment to its full and proper meaning ; and there 
are gaps left in his account which we must look to 
Plato to fill up. We can hardly, however, adopt 
the view of Meiners, 2 that only those parts of the 

1 On the philosophical merits of 2 Geschichte cler Wissen- 

Socrates, Schleiermachei% Works, schaften in Griechenland und 

iii. 2, 293. Bora, ii. 420. 

g 2 



V. 



84 SOCRATES. 

Chap. dialogues of Plato may be considered historical, 
which are either to be found in Xenophon, or imme- 
diately follow from what Xenophon says, or which 
are opposed to Plato's own views. This hypothesis 
would only give us the Socrates of Xenophon slightly 
modified, whilst the deeper spring of Socratic thought 
would still be wanting. The only safe course is 
adopted by Schleiermacher, who asks : What may 
Socrates have been, in addition to what Xenophon 
says he was, without denying the character and 
maxims which Xenophon distinctly assigns to him ? 
and what must he have been to call for and to justify 
such a description as is given of him in the dia- 
logues of Plato ? Several other writers have since 
acquiesced in Schleiermacher's estimate of Xeno- 
phon, 1 and even before Schleiermacher, Dissen 2 had 
expressed his inability to see in the pages of Xeno- 
phon anything but a description of the outward ap- 
pearance of Socrates. The same approval has been 
bestowed on Schleiermacher's canon forfinding out the 
real Socrates, and only when it failed has an addition 
been made, 3 that the expressions of Aristotle may be 
used as a touchstone to discover the teaching of 
Socrates. On the other hand Xenophon s authority 
has been warmly supported by several critics. 4 

In deciding between these two views a difficulty, 
however, presents itself. The authority of the one or 
the other of our accounts can only be ascertained by 

1 Brandis, Bitter, Van Heusde. 4 Hegel, G-esch. d. Phil. ii. 69 ; 

2 De philosophia morali. Rotscher, Herrman, &e. 

3 By Brandis. 



AUTHORITIES FOR HIS PHILOSOPHY. 85 

a comparison with the true historical picture, and Ghap. 
the true historical picture can only be known from _______ 

these conflicting accounts. This difficulty would be 
insurmountable, if the two narratives had the same 
claim to be considered historical in points which they 
state varyingly ; nor would Aristotle's scanty notices 
of the Socratic philosophy have been sufficient to 
settle the question. Fortunately one thing is clear, 
that Plato only claims to be true to facts in those points 
on which he agrees with Xenophon, as for instance, 
in the Apology and the Symposium. On other points 
no one could well assert that he wished all to be taken 
as historical which he puts into the mouth of 
Socrates. Of Xenophon, on the contrary, it may 
be asserted, that in the Memorabilia he intended to 
unfold a lifelike picture of the views and the con- 
duct of his teacher, although he did not feel himself 
bound to reproduce his discourses verbatim, and may 
have thus expanded in his own way many a conversa- 
tion, of which he only knew the general substance. 
The objections to his account are only based on an 
indirect argument, that the historical importance of 
Socrates can hardly be explained from the picture he 
gives, and that if it were true, it is impossible to con- 
ceive how Socrates could have said what Plato makes 
him say, without violating the strongest probabilities. 
And supposing this objection to be established, it 
would be necessary in order to gain an idea of his 
philosophy, to look to the very questionable picture 
of Plato, and to the few expressions of Aristotle. 
But before these can be received, an examination of 



8 SOCRATES. 

Chap. them must be made in a more careful manner than 
;___ the opponents of Xenophon have generally cared to 



do. The enquiry is closely bound up with an ex- 
position of the teaching of Socrates, and can only 
be distinguished from it in theory. It will not, 
therefore, be separated from it here. Socrates must 
be drawn after the three accounts of Xenophon, 
Plato, and Aristotle. If the attempt to form a har- 
monious picture from them all succeeds, Xenophon 
will be justified. Should it not succeed, it will then 
be necessary to ask, which of the traditional accounts 
is the true one. 
B. JPhifo- We will begin with enquiring into the general 
vnu>f P oin t' of view and the fundamental conception of 
view. Sup- Socrates. But, on the very threshold of the enquiry, 
^popular different lines seem to be taken by our main autho- 
philosophy. r ities. According to Plato, Socrates appears as a 
perfect thinker — at home in all branches of know- 
ledge ; whereas, in Xenophon he is represented far 
less as a philosopher than as an innocent and excel- 
lent man, full of piety and common sense. It is 
from Xenophon's account that the ordinary view of 
Socrates has arisen, that he w r as only a popular teacher 
holding aloof from speculative questions, and that he 
was far less a philosopher than a teacher of morality 
and instructor of youth. 1 It cannot, indeed, be 

1 How common this view was writers like Tan Heusde, but 

in past times, needs not to be even Marbaeh, a disciple of the 

proved by authorities which Hegelian philosophy, asserts that 

abound from Cicero down to Socrates 'regarded the specula- 

Wiggers and Eeinhold. That it tive philosophy which aimed at 

is not yet altogether exploded general knowledge, as useless, 

may be gathered not only from vain, and foolish/ and that he 



CHARACTERISTICS OF HIS PHILOSOPHY. 87 

denied, nor have we attempted to do so, that he was Chap. 
full of the most lively enthusiasm for morality, and . 
made it the busiuess of his life to exercise a moral 
influence upon others. But if he had only discharged 
this duty in the superficial way of a popular teacher, 
and had only imparted and inculcated the ordinary 
notions of duty and virtue, it would be a mystery 
how he could have exerted the influence he did, not 
only on weak-minded and thoughtless young men, 
but on the most talented and cultivated of his co- 
temporaries. It would be inexplicable what induced 
Plato to connect the deepest philosophical enquiries 
with his person, or what induced all later philo- 
sophers, from Aristotle down to the Stoics and Neo- 
platonists to regard him as having inaugurated a 
new epoch in philosophy, and to trace their own 
peculiar systems to the stimulus imparted by him. 

There is also more than one feature in the per- 
sonal habits of Socrates to refute the idea that he 
thought knowledge only of value in as far as it was 
instrumental for action. So far is this view even 
from being the true one, that we shall find that he 
considered actions to have a value only when they 
proceeded from correct knowledge, the conception of 
knowledge being the higher one to which he referred 
that of moral action or virtue, and perfection of 
knowledge being the measure for perfection of action. 
Again, the ordinary view represents him as aiming 

' took the field not only against sophy ; ' in short that ' he was no 
the Sophists as pretenders to philosopher.' 
knowledge, but against all philo- 



88 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
V. 



in his intercourse with others at moral training 
alone ; but it would appear l from his own words, that 
love of knowledge was the original motive for his 
activity; and accordingly we observe him in his 
dialogues pursuing enquiries, which not only have 
no moral end, 2 but which, in their practical applica- 
tion, could only serve immoral purposes. 3 These 
traits are not met with exclusively in one or other of 
our authorities, but they appear equally through the 
accounts given by the three main sources. This fact- 
would be wholly inexplicable if Socrates had been 



1 Plato, Apol. 21, where So- 
crates deduces his whole activity 
from the fact that he pursued a 
real knowledge. 

2 Examples are to be found in 
the conversation (Mem. iii. 10), 
in which Socrates conducts the 
painter Parrhasius, the sculptor 
Clito, and Pistias, the forger of 
armour, to the conceptions of 
their respective arts. It is true 
Xenophon introduces this con- 
versation with the remark that 
Socrates knew how to make him- 
self useful to artisans. But the 
desire to make himself useful can 
only have been a very subor- 
dinate one ; he was no doubt 
really actuated by the motive 
mentioned in the Apology, a 
praiseworthy curiosity to learn 
from intercourse with all classes, 
whether they were clearly con- 
scious of what their arts were 
for. Xenophon himself attests 
this, Mem. iv. 6, 1 : (tkottcov uvv 

T07s (TVVOVGl, Tt ZKCLOTOV til] TO)U 

uvtoov ovbeirdoiroT %Xr]yev. This 
pursuit of the conceptions of 
things, aiming not at the ap- 
plication of knowledge, but at 



knowledge itself, is quite enough 
to prove that Socrates was not 
only a preacher of virtue, but a 
philosopher. Even Xenophon 
found some difficulty in sub- 
ordinating it to his practical 
view of things, as hib words 
shew : from which it may be seen 
that Socrates made his friends 
more critical. But criticism is 
the organ of knowledge. 

3 Mem. iii. 11 contains a 
paragraph adapted more than any 
other to refute the idea that 
Socrates was only a popular 
teacher. Socrates hears one of 
his companions commending the 
beauty of Theodota, and at once 
goes with his company to see her. 
He finds her acting as a painter's 
model, and he thereupon enters 
into a conversation with her, in 
which he endeavours to lead her 
to a conception of her trade, and 
shows her how she will best be 
able to win lovers. Now although 
such a step would not give that 
offence to the Greeks which it 
would to us, still there is not 
the least trace of a moral purpose 
in it. 



CHARACTERISTICS OF HIS PHILOSOPHY. 89 

only the moralist for which he was formerly taken. Chap. 
The key which explains it will be found in the ' 



assumption that, in all his investigations, even when 
he appears specially as a moral teacher, a deeper 
philosophic interest was concealed below. 

Our authorities do not leave us any room to doubt c. His 
in what his purpose consisted. He sought for true t ^ eor y t ^ at 
knowledge in the service of the Delphic Grod. He consists 
busied himself unweariedly with his friends to gain a lionT^' 
knowledge of the essence of things. He referred all 
the claims of morality to the claims of knowledge. 
In a word, the idea of knowledge forms the centre of -" 
the Socratic philosophy. 1 Now, as all philosophy 
aims at knowledge, a further determination must be 
added to this definition : — that the pursuit of true 
knowledge, which had been hitherto an immediate 
and instinctive activity, became with Socrates a con- ^ 
scious and methodical pursuit. He became conscious 
of the idea of knowledge as knowledge, and when 
once conscious of it, he raised it to be his leading 
idea. 2 This, again, requires further explanation. 
If the love of knowledge was in existence before, it 
may be asked why did it not develope into a conscious 
and critical pursuit ? The answer can only be found 

1 Schleiermacher, Works, iii. 2, to establish against the Sophists 

300 : ' The awakening of the idea the absolute worth of moral de- 

of knowledge, and its first utteran- terminations, and then he adds: 

ces, must have been the substance to secure this purpose the first 

of the philosophy of Socrates.' aim of Socrates was to gain a 

Hitter agrees with this, G-esch. d. deeper insight into his inner life, 

Philosophic, ii. 50. Brandis only in order to be able to distinguish 

differs in unessential points. To false and true knowledge with 

him the origin of the doctrine of certainty. Similarly Braniss. 
Socrates appears to be his desire 2 Schleiermacher. Brandis. 



90 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
V. 



in the fact, that the knowledge which earlier philo- 
sophers pursued, was, in itself, different from the 
knowledge which Socrates required, and therefore 
they were not led on as Socrates was by this idea of 
knowledge to direct their attention to the intellectual 
processes and conditions, by which it was truly to be 
acquired. Such a necessity was, however, imposed 
on Socrates by the theory which he held, according 
to the most trustworthy accounts, as the soul of all 
his teaching — that all true knowledge must be based 
on correct conceptions, and that nothing can be 
known, unless it can be referred to a general con- 
ception, and judged of by that. 1 With this funda- 



1 Xenoph. Mem. iv. 6, 1 : 
'SooKpdrTjs yap rovs fx\v slbSras, ri 
eKaarrou eft] rwv ovtwv, tv6fxi£e 
koX rots aWois av e^yelaQai 
Svvaadai * rovs 5e fi^ el$6ras ovdev 
€<prj Bav/iaarbv elvcu avrovs re 
(TcpaWecrdcu Kal &\Aovs acpaWcip * 
qov eVe/ca gkottqov cvu ro7s (rvvovffi 
ri eKaarov efy r&v ftvrcov, oi»5e- 
TrcoTTor i\t]ye .... e7rl rrjv vn6- 
Oeciv iirdi/rjye irdvra rbv \6yov, &c. 
As is explained by the context, 
he referred all doubtful points to 
the universal conceptions, in order 
to decide by them ; iv. 5, 12 : 
e<p7] 5e Kal rb dia\€yeo~dai bvo- 
fj.ao'drji/aL e/c rod uvviovros kolvtj 
fiovXeveaOai, StaAeyovras Kara 
yivt] ra izpdyixara. Beij/ ovu irei- 
paaOai on /j.d\iara irpbs rovro 
eavrbv eroifxov Trapao'Kevdfciv. 
Comp. i. 1-16, and the many 
instances in the Memorabilia. 
Aristotle (Met. xiii. 4, 1078, b, 
17, 27) : ^caKpdrous Se irepl ras 
ydLKas aperas irpay/jLarevofievov Kal 
irepl rovrccv dplfctrOai KadoKov 
fyrovvros irpwTOv .... iaeivos 



€v\6ycos itfrei rb ri ecrriv . . . 
5uo yap effriv a ris av airodoirj 
HcaKpdrei Sucaicas, rovs r iiraKri- 
Kois \6yovs Kal rb opi^adat 
Ka66\ov. Both are, however, at 
bottom the same. The \6yoi 
iiraKriKol are only the means for 
finding universal conceptions, and 
therefore Aristotle elsewhere 
(Met. i. 6, 987, b, 1 ; xiii. 9, 
1086, b. 3 ; De Part. Anini., i. 1, 
642, a, 28) justly observes that 
the seeking for universal concep- 
tions or for the essence of things 
is the only philosophical merit of 
Socrates. Accordingly in the 
dialogue which Xenophon has 
preserved, we also see him making 
straight at the general conception, 
the ri iffriv, and even Plato's 
Apology, 22, B., describes his 
investigation of men as Siepoorav 
ri Kiyoiev. Socrates, that is to 
say, asks for the conception of the 
deeds of the practical man, or the 
poetry of the poet. Conf. Meno, 
70, A. ; PhEedr. 262, B. ; 265, D. 
It can however hardly be proved 



CHARACTERISTICS OF HIS PHILOSOPHY. 91 

mental theory, however simple it may appear, an Chap. 



entire change in the intellectual process was de- 
manded. The ordinary view regards things as being 
what they appear to be to the senses ; or if con- 
tradictory experiences forbid this, it clings to those ap- 
pearances which make the strongest impression on the 
observer, declares these to constitute the essence, and 
thence draws further conclusions. This was exactly 
what philosophers had hitherto done. Even those 
who decried the senses as not to be depended upon 
had started from one-sided observations, without 
being conscious of the necessity of grounding every 
judgment on an exhaustive enquiry into the object. 
This dogmatism had been overthrown by the Sophists, 
and it was recognised that all impressions derived 
from the senses were relative and personal, that they 
do not represent things as they are, but as they ap- 
pear ; and, that, consequently, whatever assertion w T e 
may take, its opposite may be advanced with equal 
justice. For, if for one person at this moment this 
is true, for another person at another moment that is 
true. 

Socrates expresses the same sentiment relative to 
the value of common opinions. He is aware that 
they cannot furnish us with knowledge, but only 

from Plato that Socrates really derived this distinction from the 

distinguished iwLarr]fjLr} from do£a, Eleatics. It can hardly be found 

as Brandis would hare it ; for we in Xen. Mem. iv. 2, 33. In 

cannot decide whether passages reality, however, the distinction 

like Meno, 98, B. represent the was implied in the whole conduct 

view of Socrates or that of Plato, of Socrates, and in passages such 

And Antisthenes, who, according as Xen. Mem. iv. 6, 1 ; Plato, 

to Diogenes vi. 17, wrote a treatise Apol. 21, B. 
7Tept 5o£7js kcu imariifXTis, may have 



V 



92 SOCRATES. 

Chap. involve us in contradictions. But he does not draw 
' the inference, which the Sophists did, that real 



knowledge is impossible, but only that it is impos- 
sible in that way. The majority of mankind have 
no true knowledge, because they confine themselves 
to suppositions, the accuracy of which they have 
never examined, and they only take into considera- 
tion one property or another, but not the essence. 
Amend this fault ; consider every object in all its 
bearings, and endeavour from such many-sided ob- 
servation to determine its essence ; we shall then 
have conceptions instead of vague notions — a regular 
examination, instead of an unmethodical procedure 
without reflection — a true, instead of a supposed 
knowledge. By requiring knowledge to be made of 
conceptions, Socrates not only broke away from the 
current view, but, generally speaking, from all pre- 
vious philosophy. A thorough observation from 
every side, a critical examination, a methodical en- 
quiry conscious of its own basis, was demanded ; all 
that had hitherto been regarded as knowledge was 
rejected, because it fell short of these conditions ; 
and at the same time the conviction was expressed 
that, by observing these rules, real knowledge could 
be secured. 
D. Moral This theory had not only an intellectual, but more 
importance i mme( Jiately a moral value for Socrates. It is in 
theory. fact one of the most striking traits in his character 
that he was unable to divide the intellectual from 
the moral, and neither admitted knowledge without 
virtue, nor virtue without knowledge. In this 



CHARACTERISTICS OF HIS PHILOSOPHY. 93 

respect he is the man of his age, and herein consists Chap. 

his greatness, that he made its needs and lawful " 

desires felt with great penetration and keenness. 
When advancing civilisation had created the demand 
for a higher education amongst the Greeks, and the 
course of their intellectual development had diverted 
their attention from nature, and fixed it on mind, a 
closer connection became necessary between philo- 
sophy and life. Philosophy could only find its 
highest object in man, and man could only find in 
philosophy the help and support which he needed for 
life. The Sophists endeavoured to meet this want 
with great skill and vigour, and hence their extra- 
ordinary success. But the sophistic philosophy of 
life suffered too much from the want of a tenable 
ground. It had by universal doubting loosened its 
intellectual roots too effectually to save itself from 
degenerating with terrific speed, and serving to 
foster every wicked and selfish impulse. Instead of 
the moral life being raised by the influence of the 
Sophists, both life and philosophy were taking the 
same downward course. 

The sad tendencies of the age were fully under- 
stood by Socrates, and while his contemporaries, 
struck blind with admiration, were either insensible 
to the dangers of the sophistic education, or else 
through fear and singular indifference to the wants 
of the times and the march of history, confined 
themselves, as did Aristophanes, to denouncing the 
innovators, he was able with penetrating look to 
discern, what was right and what was wrong in the 



$4 SOCRATES. 

Chap. spirit of his time. The unsatisfactory nature of the 
' older culture, the untenableness of the ordinary 
virtue, the obscurity of the prevailing notions so full 
of contradictions, the necessity for intellectual educa- 
tion, were all recognised by him as much as by any 
other of the Sophists. But he held out other and 
higher ends to education. He sought not to destroy 
the belief in truth, but rather to show how truth 
might be acquired, by a new intellectual process. 
His aim was not to minister to the selfishness of the 
age, but rather to rescue the age from selfishness 
and apathy, by teaching it what was truly good and 
useful : not to undermine morality and piety, but 
to rear them up on a new foundation of knowledge. 
Thus Socrates was at once a moral and an intel- 
lectual reformer. His one great thought was to 
transform and restore moral conduct by means of 
knowledge, and these two elements were so inti- 
mately united by him, that he could find no other 
subject of knowledge but human conduct, and could 
discover no security for conduct but knowledge. 
The service which he rendered to both morality and 
science by his labours, and the standard which he 
set up for the intellectual condition of his people 
and of mankind generally, were felt in after times. 
If in the sequel, the distinction between moral and 
intellectual activity in addition to their unity, was 
fully brought out, yet the knot by which he con- 
nected them, has never been untied ; and if in the 
last centuries of the old world, philosophy took the 
place of the waning religion, and gave a new ground 



CHARACTERISTICS OF HIS PHILOSOPHY. 95 

to morality, purifying and exalting the inner moral Chap. 



subjective 
character 



life, this great and beneficial result was due to J 

Socrates in as far as it can be assigned to any one 
individual. 

The interest of philosophy was now turned away E. The 
from the outer world, and directed to man and his 
moral nature. But, inasmuch as man can only of the 
regard a thing as true and connected when he has Socrates. 
been convinced of its truth by personal research, 
great attention was bestowed by Socrates on the 
culture of his own personality. In this some 
modern writers have thought that they discerned the 
peculiar character of his philosophy. 1 But the life 
and personality of Socrates is a very different thing 
from the caprice of the Sophists, nor must it be 
confounded with the extreme individualism of the 
post- Aristotelian schools. Socrates was aware, that 
each individual must seek the grounds of his own 
conviction, that truth is not something given from 
without, but must be found by the exercise of a 
man's own thought. He required all assumptions to 
. be examined anew, no matter how old or how current 
they were, and that dependence should only be 
placed on proof and not on authority. But he was 
far from making man, as Protagoras did, the measure^ 
of all things. He did not even as the Stoics and Epi- 
cureans did, declare personal conviction and practical 
need to be the ultimate standard of truth, nor yet 
as the Sceptics, resolve all truth into probability : 
but as knowledge was to him an end in itself, he 

1 Hegel, G-esch. d. Phil. ii. 40 ; Kotscher, AristopL, p. 245. 



96 SOCRATES. 

Chap, was convinced that true knowledge could be ob- 

' tained by a thoughtful consideration of things. 

Moreover he saw in man the proper object of 
philosophy, but instead of making personal caprice 
the law, as the Sophists did, he subordinated it to 
^he general law residing in nature and in abstract 
moral relations. 1 Instead too of making, with later 
philosophers, the self-contentment of the wise man 
his highest end, he confined himself to the old Greek 
morality, which could not conceive of the individual 
independent of the state, 2 and which accordingly 
made the first duty of a citizen to consist in living 
for the state, 3 and regarded the law of the state as 
his natural rule of conduct. 4 Hence the political 
indifference or the universal patriotism of the Stoa 
and its contemporary rivals were entirely alien to 
Socrates. If it can be truly said ' that in him com- 
mences an unbounded reference to the person, to the 
freedom of the inner life,' 5 it must also be added 
that this statement by no means exhausts the theory 
of Socrates ; and thus the disputes about the purely 
personal, or the really general character of the 
Socratic doctrine, 6 will have to be decided in such a 
way, that it is allowed that his theory exhibits an 
inward personal bent, in comparison with former 
systems, but is not by any means purely relative. 
Its object is to gain a knowledge which does more 

1 Proofs may be found Xen. 3 See Xen. Mem. i. 6, 15; 
Mem. ii. 2; ii. 6, 1-7 ; iii. 8, 1-3 ; Plato, Apol. 30, A. 

iv a 4, 20. 4 Mem. iv. 4, 12, and 3, 15. 

2 Compare the conversation 5 Hegel. 

with Aristippus,Xen. Mem. ii. 1, 6 Compare the views of Rot- 
13 : and Plato's Crito, 53, A. scher and Brandis. 



CHARACTERISTICS OF HIS PHILOSOPHY. 97 

than serve a personal want, and which is true and Chap. 
desirable for more than the person who seeks it, but ' 

the ground on which it is sought is only the personal 
thought l of the individual. 

It is true that this theory is not further expanded 
by Socrates. He has established the principle, that 
only the knowledge which has to do with conceptions 
is true knowledge ; that true being only belongs to 
conceptions, and that therefore conceptions are alone 
true ; but he never reached to a systematic exposition/ 
of what conceptions are true in themselves. Know- 
ledge is here laid down as a postulate, and set as a 
problem for individuals to solve. Philosophy is 
rather philosophic impulse, and philosophic method,^ 
a seeking for truth, but not yet a possessing it ; and 
this incompleteness has countenanced the view that 
the theory of Socrates was a theory of a personal and 
one-sided knowledge. It should, however, never be 
forgotten, that the aim of Socrates was always to 
find out and describe what was really true and good. 
Mankind is to be intellectually and morally framed, 
but the one only means for the purpose is the acqui- 
sition of knowledge. 

As the great aim of Socrates was to train men to 

1 Hegel says nothing very Socrates is said to have substi- 

dilferent, when in distinguishing tuted ' thinking man is the 

(Gresch. d. Phil. ii. 40) Socrates measure of all things,' in place 

from the Sophists he says : ' in of the Sophistic doctrine ' man is 

Socrates the creation of thought the measure of all things.' In a 

is at once clad with an inde- word, his leading thought is not 

pendent existence of its own,' the individual as he knows 

and what is purely personal himself experimentally, but the 

is ' externalised and made uni- universal element which is found 

versa! by him as the good.' running through all individuals. 

H 



S SOCRATES. 

Chap. think, rather than to construct a system for them, 
' it seemed to be his main business to determine the 
way which would lead them to truth, or in other 
words to find out the true method of philosophy. 
The substance of his teaching appears to have been 
confined on the one hand to questions having an 
immediate bearing on human conduct ; and it does 
not, on the other hand, go beyond the general and 
theoretical demand, that all action should be deter- 
mined by a knowledge of conceptions. There is no 
systematic tracing of the development of morality in 
the individual ; no attempt to ground it upon other 
than external reasons. 



HIS METHOD. 99 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE PHILOSOPHICAL METHOD OF SOCRATES. 

The peculiarity of the method pursued by Socrates/ 1 Chap. 

consists generally speaking in deducing conceptions '__ 

from the common opinions of men. Beyond thea 
formation of conceptions, however, his method leads 
to nothing further: so far from being a systematic 
treatment of the conceptions gained, it is merely an 
intellectual discipline of the individual mind. Now 
for the first time it was instinctively felt, that know- 
ledge could only belong to conceptions, and it became 
the object of science to gain an insight into the 
essence of things. At the same time, thought does 
not advance further than this. It has not the power 
to develope to a system of absolute knowledge, nor 
has it a method sufficiently matured to form a system. 
For the same reason, the process of induction is not 
reduced within clearly defined rules. All that 
Socrates has clearly expressed is the general postulate, 
that every thing must be reduced to its conception. 
Further details about the mode and manner of this 
reduction, and its strict logical forms, were not yet 
moulded into a theory, but were applied by him as 
the result of individual skill. The only thing which 
h 2 



100 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
VI. 



A. The 

Socratic 



of self , re- 
sulting in a 



of his own 
ignorance. 



at all resembles a logical rule, is his maxim that 
the process of constructive criticism must always 
confine itself to what is universally admitted; 1 but 
this sounds far too indefinite to invalidate our 
assertion. 

This process involves three particular points. The 
first is the Socratic knowledge of self. Since the 
knowledge of conceptions was in the opinion of 
Socrates alone true knowledge, he was obliged to 
enquire in the case of all supposed knowledge, 
whether it agreed w r ith his idea of knowledge, or not. 
Nothing appeared to him more mistaken, nothing 
more obstructive to true knowledge from the very 
outset, than the belief that we know w r hat we do not 
know. 2 Nothing was so necessary as self-examina- 
tion, to discover what we really know, and what we 
only seem to know. 3 Nothing was more indispens- 

of it in Plato, Apol. 21, B., and 
says that according to the oracle 
he had interrogated all with 
whom he was brought into con- 
tact, to discover whether they had 
any kind of knowledge ; and 
that in all cases he had found 



1 Mem. iv. 6, 15: dirore 5e 
avros ri rc2 \6ycp 8ie£icu, dia rwv 
fxakKfra b^oXoyovfAeucaj/ eiropevero, 
vofxi&v ravrrjv rrjv c\cr<pd\eiav rfvai 
Xoyov. 

2 Xen. Mem. iii. 9, 6 : ixavictv ye 
fifyv evavriov (j.ev ecpf] elvai crocpia, ov 
uevroi ye rrjv aue7ricrrr}fjLO(Tvv7]p [ia- 
vlav ev6yu£ev. rb 8e hyvoelv eav- 
rbv Kai a ju^ o?5e 5o£afefi/ re Kal 
oUadaL yiyvaxrueiv, eyyvrdrco fxa- 
vias 4\oyi(ero elvai. Generally 
speaking, those are called mad 
who are mistaken about what is 
commonly known, but not those 
who are mistaken about things 
of which most men are ignorant. 
Also Plato, Apol. 29, B. : Kal rov- 
ro irccs ovk afiaQia ecrrlv avrt) t) 
^oveibicTTos, Tj rod oUcr6ai elbevai 
tt, ovk oifiev ; 

3 In the sense Socrates speaks 



along with some kind of know- 
ledge an ignorance, which he 
would not take in exchange for 
any kind of knowledge — a belief 
that they knew what they did 
not know. On the other hand, 
he considered it to be his voca- 
tion, (piKocrocpovpra (yv Kal i^erd- 
%ovra efxavrbv Kal rovs tiWovs 
(28, E.) ; and he says elsewhere 
(38, A.) that there could be no 
higher good, than to converse 
every day as he did : 6 5e ave^e- 
racrros fiios ov fiicerbs avQpdiirco' 



KNOWLEDGE OF SELF. 



101 



able for the practical duties of life, than to become 
acquainted with the state of our inner self, with the 
extent of our knowledge and capacities, with our 
defects and with our needs. 1 Now, inasmuch as 
one result of this self-examination is the discovery 
that the actual knowledge of the philosopher does 
not correspond with his idea of knowledge, the im- 
mediate conclusion is, that we know that we know 
nothing, a conclusion at which Socrates declared 
he had arrived. Any thing else he denied that he 
knew, 2 and therefore refused to be the teacher of his 
friends, only wishing to learn and enquire with 
them. 3 This confession of his ignorance was cer- 



Chap. 
VI. 



1 Xenophon, Mem. iv. 2, 24, 
speaking of an enquiry into the 
Delphic yv&Qi creavrou, says that 
self-knowledge is attended with 
the greatest advantages, want of 
it with the greatest disadvantages : 
ol jxev yap elBores eavrovs rd re 
eTTirrjSeia eavrols laacri Kal oiayi- 
yv<J)(TKOv<nv a re ftvvavrai Kal a \xi\ • 
kou a fxev eiricrravraL irpdrrovres 
iropi^ovrai re u>v heoi/rai Kal eu 
ir^drrovcTLV. See also Plato, Phse- 
drus, 229, E. ; Symp. 216, A. 

2 Plato, Apol. 21, B. : iycb 
yap dr, ovre fAeya ovre cr/juKpov 
ovvoioa efiavro3o~6(pos &v. — 21, D. : 
rovrov fiej/ rod avQpojirov eyoo o~o- 
<pdorepos el/M • Kivhvvsvei fxev yap 
rjfJLGov ovfierepos ouhei> KaXbv tcaya- 
6bv etSeVcu, &AA* ovros jxev o%erai 
ri eiBeuai ovk eldojs, eyw Se &o~irep 
otv ovk o75a, ovfie oXofxai. — 23, B. : 
ovros vfxwv, co audpc/Diroi, aocpcoraros 
eariu, oar is &o~Trep 'XcaKparris eyixc- 
Kev, on ov^evbs fyios eart rfj a\r]- 
Oeia irpbs oro&iav. And a little be- 
fore: rb be KivSvpevei, ooavSpes 'AQrj- 



vatoi, toj ovri 6 Oebs o*o<pbs eivai, Kal 
ev rqp xprjo-fxcprovrci) rovro Keyeiv, 
on 7i avdpcvwivr) o~o(pia bxiyov rivbs 
a£ia io~r\ Kal ovdevos. — Symp. 216, 
D. : ayvoel irdvra Kal ovfiev oiBeu, 
oos rb o-xvv-a avrov. — Thesetet. 
150, C. : dyovos elfju aocpias, Kal 
oirep 77577 iroAAoi fioi oove't$i(Tav, 
cos rovs jxev aWovs epocroo, avrbs 
5e ovdev airoKpivofjLaL irepl ovdevbs 
Sia rb fxr\hev ex* iV o~ocp6v } d\r)6es 
dveidi^ovo-L ' rb 5e ainov rovrov 
rode • fxaLeveadai fxe 6 debs avay- 
Ka^eL, yevvav Se aweKuiAvo-ev. 
Comp. Kep. i. 337, E. ; Men. 98, 
B. That this trait has been 
taken by Plato from the Socrates 
of history, may be gathered from 
his dialogues, in which his teacher 
by no means appears so ignorant. 
3 Koivfj fiov\eveor6ai, Koivy GKe- 
7rreo~6aL, KOivr} Qr\relv, avfarelv, &C. 
Xen., Mem. iv. 5, 12 ; 6, 1 ; Plato 
TheEet. 151, E. ; Prot, 330, B. 
Gorg. 505, E. ; Crat. 384, B. 
Meno, 89, E. 



102 SOCRATES. 

Chap. tainly not meant to be a sceptical denial of all 
VI " . 

* knowledge l — the whole of the philosophy of Socrates 

would be irreconcilable with such a view — but it 

contains a simple avowal about his own personal 

state, and about the state of those, whose knowledge 

he had had the opportunity of testing. 2 Nor again 

must it be taken for mere irony, or exaggerated 

modesty. Socrates really did not know anything, or 

to express it otherwise, he had no developed theory, 

and no positive and dogmatic teaching. But ever 

since the demand for a knowledge of conceptions had 

dawned upon him in all its fulness, he missed the 

marks of true knowledge in all that hitherto passed 

for wisdom and knowledge. Since, however, he was 

also the first to require such a knowledge, he could 

as yet assign no definite subject to knowledge. The 

idea of knowledge was to him a boundless field, in 

the face of wiiich he could not but be conscious of 

his ignorance. 3 A certain affinity between his 

view and the sophistic way of doubting every thing, 

may be here observed. Socrates was however 

opposed to this doubting, in as far as it denied the 

possibility of all knowledge, although he agreed with 

it in as far as it referred to previous philosophy. 

Natural philosophers, he believed, transcended the 

limits of human knowledge in their enquiries, as 

might be seen from the fact that they were at variance 

1 As the New Academicians ledge is not denied, but it is only 
wanted, Cic. Acad. i. 12, 14; iv. asserted that human knowledge 
23, 74. in comparison with the divine is 

2 The expression in the Apo- limited. 

logy, 23, A., does not contradict 3 Compare Hegel, G-esch. d. 
this : for the possibility of know- Phil. ii. 54 ; Hermann, Plato, 326. 



SEARCH FOR TRUE KNOWLEDGE. 103 

with one another. Some held the All to be one, Chap. 

VT 

others made of it a boundless variety ; some thought ; 

that everything, others that nothing was moved ; 
some that all things, others that nothing comes into 
being or perishes. 1 Just as the Sophists destroyed 
by each other the contending statements of the 
natural philosophers, so Socrates gathered from the 
contest of systems, that not one of them was in 
possession of the truth. But herein lay the difference 
between them, that whereas the Sophists made 
ignorance their leading thought, and considered the 
highest wisdom to consist in doubting everything, 
Socrates adhered to his demand for knowledge, and to 
the belief in its possibility, and therefore regarded 
ignorance as the greatest evil. 

This being the import of ignorance according to B. The 
Socrates, it involves in itself a demand for enlighten- ^Zwlfdqe 
ment. The knowledge of ignorance leads to a search Sifting 
for true knowledge — and this is his second point, fdfow- 
Since, however, the consciousness of our own ignorance 
continues, and since the philosopher has an idea of 
knowledge, which he does not find realised in himself, 
the search for knowledge naturally assumes the form 
of an application to others, with a view of seeing 
whether the required knowledge is to be found with 
them. 2 Hence the necessity of carrying on the 

1 Xen. Men. i. 1, 11, says that eVel koli tovs /LLeyicrrov (ppovovuras 

Socrates did not busy himself €7rt t<£ ir€pl tovtcov Aeyeiv ov rau- 

with natural science, but on ra Bo^d^eip aAA-tjXois, dAAa ro?s 

the contrary he held those who ^.aivo^ivoLs 6/j.oicos diaKtlcrdcu 7rpb? 

did to be foolish : i6av/j.a(€ 5e e; aAA^Aovs. 

fxT) (pavepbv avroh io-riv, on ravra 2 This connection is very ap- 

ov duvarou icrriv avQp&Trois evpzlv ' parent in the Apol. 21, B., if only 



men. 
Eros and 
irony. 



104 SOCRATES. 

Chap. enquiry by means of the dialogue. For Socrates, 
' this mode of intercourse has not merely an edu- 
cational value by opening a more extensive field for 
his ideas, but it is an indispensable condition for the 
development of thought, and one from which the 
Socrates of history never departs. 1 To determine it 
more accurately, the nature of this method consists 
in a sifting of men, as it is described in the Apology, 2 
-or in a bringing to the birth, as it is called in the 
Thesetetus ; in other words, the philosopher obliges 
others by his questions, to open out their minds to 
him, he enquires into their real opinions, into the 
reasons of their beliefs and actions, and in this way 
attempts to analyse their notions by interrogation 
and to bring out the latent thought of which they are 
unconscious. In as far, then, as this process of 
interrogation assumes that the knowledge needed by 
the philosopher maybe found elsewhere, it resembles 
an impulse to supply one's own defects by the help of 
others ; and since theory and practice are here united, 
and what is more, since philosophy cannot be sepa- 
rated from the personal life of the philosopher, this 
intercourse with others became for him not only an 
intellectual, but at the same time also a moral and 
personal need. To enquire in common is at once to 

the inner thought of the philo- tls itrLcrTTjfjLCDv e?r) ru>u cvj/oi/rcou 

sophy of Socrates, is put in the airy. Xenophon only took it to 

place of the oracular response. prove '6tl avrdpKeis 4v tolls -npovr,- 

1 Compare, besides the Memo- Kovaais irpd^aLv avrovs elvai iire- 
rabilia, Plato, Apol. 24, C. ; Pro- jueAelTo: and the enquiry into 
tag. 335, B., 336, B. human nature has this meaning 

2 Similarly Xen. Mem. iy. 7, in Mem. iii. 6 ; iv. 2 ; but clearly 
1 : irdvruv fikv yap uv dycb oida this is not its original object. 
fidAiffra IfjiieAej/ avrcf elSeVcu, orov 



USE 01 EROS AND IRONY. 105 

live in common. Love of knowledge is at once love Chaf. 



of friendship, and the peculiar character of the 
Socratic Eros 1 consists in the blending together of 
philosophy and friendship. The process bears also 
the character of irony ; for in as far as others do not 
possess the knowledge sought for, the questions of 
Socrates only serve to expose their ignorance. Irony, 
however, must not be understood to be merely a con- 
versational trick ; 2 still less is it that derisive 
condescension or affected simplicity, which as it were 
lures others on to the ice in order to laugh at their 
falls ; and it is equally removed from the intensely 
individualising tendency of the romantic school, 
which bears the same name, but is entirely destructive 
of all general truth. Properly speaking, it consists 
in this, that Socrates, without any positive knowledge, 
and only prompted by a desire for knowledge, 
addresses himself to others, in the hope of learning 
from them what they know, but that in the attempt 
to discover it, by a critical analysis of their notions 3 

1 Brandis ii. a, 64, reminds and Cebes had treated of Zpm in 

us with justice that besides Plato the Socratic sense. 
and Xenophon, Euclid, Crito, 2 Hegel, G-esch. d. Phil. ii. 53, 

Simmias, and Antisthenes men- 57; Conf. Arist. Eth. iv. 13. 
tion writings about epcos, which 3 Plato at least gives this 

shew the importance of it for deeper meaning to the irony of 

the Socratic schools. The main Socrates. See Rep. i. 337, A. : av- 

passage in Xenophon is Syrup, c. T7j ine'ivr) 7) elcodvia elpwpeia^ooKpd- 

8, in which the advantages of a rovs, Kal ravr iyk ydrj re Kal rov- 

spiritual and the disadvantages tols irpovXeyov, '6tl av airoKpiva- 

of a sensual love are insisted a ai fxkv ovk edeX^aois, elpcoyevaoio 

upon by Xenophon, speaking for Be teal ttclvtol fxaXKov iroi^aois 7} 

himself, as a careful survey of the airoKpivoio etris rlcre epoora. And 

Platonic Symposion will shew, again, 337, E. : iVa ^coKpdTrjs rb 

but undoubtedly following in the elcadbs Biairpd^-nrai, avrbs fxev /ul^ 

train of Socrates. Even iEschines airoKpij/rjraL, olKXov Se airoKpivofjLe^ 



VI. 



106 



SOCRATES. 



Chaf. 
VI. 



C. The 

formation 
of concep- 
tions 
and the 
method of 
proof by 
concep- 
tions. 



their supposed knowledge itself vanishes. In its 
widest acceptation, irony is the dialectical or the 
critical side of the Socratic method, and it assumes 
its peculiar form, owing to the presupposed ignorance 
of him who uses it for his instrument. 

But however conscious Socrates might be of pos- 
sessing no real knowledge, he must at least have 
believed that he possessed a notion of what know- 
ledge was and of its method, since, without this 
conviction, he would neither have been able to 
confess his own ignorance, nor to expose that of 
others, both being only rendered possible by com- 
paring current knowledge with the idea of knowledge 
residing somewhere. The fact that this idea was no 
where to be found realised, appeared to him to call 
for an attempt to make it actual, and hence resulted 



vov Xafxfidvr) Xoyov Kal eXeyxy ' 
to which Socrates replies : ttojs 
yap av . . . ris airoKpivairo irpoo- 
rou }xkv fxif] eldcos /XTiSe (pdffKwv 
elSevai, &c. Syrup. 216, E. : 
clpcovevofiepos §e kcu iraifav irdvra 
rbv fiiov nphs robs avQp&irovs dia- 
reXe?, which, as the context shews, 
refers partly to the fact that 
Socrates pretended to be in love, 
without being so in the Greek 
sense of the term, and partly to 
the words ayvoel izdvra Kal ov8hv 
olSev. The same, omitting the 
word clpoovela, is said in the pas- 
sage of the Thesetetus already 
mentioned, and in the Meno, 80, 
A. : ouSej/ clXXo 7) avros re airopeTs 
kcl\ robs a\Xovs 7roie?s airopelv, and 
also in the Apol. 23, E., in which, 
after the Socratic sifting of others 
has been described, it goes on to 



say : 4k ravrrjcrl 87? rrjs i^rdcrcoos 
iroXXol fikv cnrexdeLai fj.01 yeyovacri 
. . . ovo/jlcl 5e rovro . . . co(pbs 
eivai. oXovtcli ydp /xe eKdcrrore 01 
Trapoures ravra avrbv eivai aocpbv 
a av dXXov i^eXey^cc. Likewise 
Xenophon, Mem. iv. 4, 10: on 
t&v dXXwv KarayeXas, ipoorccp jxhv 
Kal eXeyx&v ivavras, avrbs 5e ovdevl 
Q4Xo)V vire-xeiv Xoyov ou5e yvcc t ur)v 
airoQaiveoOai irepl ovSevos. And 
therefore Qnintilian ix. 2, 46, 
observes that the whole life of 
Socrates seemed an irony, because 
he always played the part of an 
admirer of the wisdom of others. 
Connected with this is the use 
which Socrates made of irony as 
a figure of speech. Conf. Plat. 
G-org. 489, E. ; Symp. 218, D. : 
Xen., Mem. iv. 2. Only its mean- 
ing must not be limited to this. 



FORMATION OF CONCEPTIONS. 107 

the third point in his scientific course, the attempt Chap. 
to create real knowledge. Now, since he could only ' 

hold that knowledge to be true which was concerned 
with the conception of things, the formation of con- 
ceptions or induction l became for him a preliminary 
necessity. Even if formal definitions were not always 
forthcoming, some universal quality applicable to 
the conception and to the essence of the object, was 
always required, in order that any particular case 
which was brought before his notice might be solved 
by a reference to a universal category. 2 The class- 
quality therefore became of the greatest importance 
to him. 

This induction takes, as a starting point, the 
commonest opinions of men : it begins with examples 
taken from daily life, with well known and generally 
admitted maxims. On every disputed point Socrates 
refers to such instances, and hopes in this way to 
attain a universal agreement. 3 As all previous science 
had been called in question, nothing remained but 
to begin anew with the most simple matters of ex- 
perience. But induction does not as yet derive its 
value from the exhaustive and critically tested series'' 
of observations on which its conceptions are based. 
This is a later requirement due partly to Aristotle, 
and partly to more modern philosophy. The wider 
basis of positive knowledge based on an exhaustive 

1 Compare the remarks of Ari- morabilia passim, and Xen. (Ec, 
stotle already mentioned, p. 90. 19, 15 : r) epwr-qais diSao-KaXia 

2 e7r2 ttjv vtzoQzglv iiravjjye irdura icrlv . . . fryoov yap fie Bi &u iyce 
tov \6yov. See p. 90. eTria-ra/jLai, ouoia tovtols imdeiKyvs 

3 Plato gives instances of this a ovk ivo/uii&v eTricrrao-Qai, avcnre'i- 
procedure. Compare the Me- 0eis, olfxcu ws kcu ravra iirio-TaiJiai, 



108 SOCRATES. 

Chap. experience is as yet wanting, and its very possibility 
' denied ; and so in expanding his thoughts in personal 
conversation, Socrates has distinct reference to the 
case before him, and to the capacity and needs of his 
audience. Confined to the assumptions which the 
circumstances and his own limited experience supply, 
he has to connect the thread of isolated notions and 
admissions, and can only go as far as others can 
follows In most cases he relies more on particular 
instances than on an exhaustive analysis of experi- 
ence. 1 He endeavours, however, to improve the 
chance element in his fundamental principles, by 
collecting opposite instances, with the view of cor- 
recting and supplementing different experiences by 
one another. For instance, the question is raised as 
to the conception of injustice. He is unjust, says 
Euthydemus, who lies, deceives, robs, &c. But, 
rejoins Socrates, it is right to lie, to deceive, and to 
rob, in the case of enemies. Accordingly, the con- 
ception must be more accurately limited, and be- 
comes: He is unjust who does such things to his 
friends. But in certain cases it is allowable to do 
such things to one's friends. A general is not unjust 
when he inspirits his army by a falsehood, nor a 
father, who gives his son medicine by an artifice, nor 
a friend, who gets a weapon out of his friend's hand, 
with which he would have committed suicide. We 
must, therefore, introduce a further limitation, and 
say: He is unjust who deceives his friends in order 

1 As for example in the comparison of the politician with the 
physician, pilot, &c. 



METHOD OF INDUCTION. 109 

to do them harm. 1 Or supposing the conception of Chap. 
a ruler has to be discovered. General opinion regards 
a ruler as one who has the power to give orders. 
But this power, Socrates shows, is conceded to a pilot 
on board ship, to a physician in sickness, and in 
every other case, to those only who are at home in 
their special subject. He, therefore, alone is a ruler 
who possesses the necessary knowledge to rule. 2 Or 
we have to determine what belongs to a good suit of 
armour. The smith says, it must have a proper 
measure. But suppose the man who has to wear it 
has a misshapen body? Why then, the answer is, 
the misshapen body must be the proper measure. 
And thus the armour has the proper measure, 
when it fits. But now, supposing a man wishes to 
move, must the armour fit exactly ? Certainly not, 
or it would impede the movements of the wearer. 
We must, therefore, understand by fitting what is 
comfortable for use. 3 In a similar way we see him 
analysing other common notions for the benefit of 
his friends. He reminds them of the various sides 
to every question ; he brings out the opposition 
which every notion contains either within itself or in 
relation to some other : and he aims at correcting, by 
additional observations, ideas resting on a one-sided 
experience, at completing them, and at giving to 
them more careful and accurate definitions. 

By this procedure will be discovered what belongs 
to the essence of every object, and what does not, 
and thus conceptions are formed from ordinary no- 

1 Mem. iv. 2, 11. 2 Ibid. iii. 9, 10. 3 Ibid. iii. 10, 9. 



110 SOCRATES. 

Chap. tions. But the class-qualities of conceptions are also 

the most important things for the purpose of proof. 

In order to discover whether a particular quality 
really belongs to a thing, or whether a particular 
course of action is necessary, Socrates goes back to 
the conception of the thing to which it refers ; and 
from it deduces what applies to the given case. 1 
But since his aim in so doing is rather to decide a 
particular case than to construct an intellectual 
system, this part of his method has not the same 
importance as the formation of conceptions. The 
remarkable feature about his method of proof is that 
everything is measured and decided by conceptions. 
Otherwise, the theory of proof has, with Socrates, 
very little that is peculiar. When Aristotle, then, 
makes the chief merit of Socrates consist in the for- 
mation of conceptions and in induction, is he not on 
the whole right ? 

If we proceed to ask on what objects did Socrates 
practise his method, we meet with a motley array of 
materials in the Memorabilia of Xenophon — enquiries 
into the essence of virtue, the duties of man, the 
existence of Gods, contests with Sophists, counsels of 
the most varied kinds for friends and acquaintances, 
conversations with generals about the responsibilities 

1 For instance, in order to cavalry, lie begins (Mem. iii 

reprove Lamprocles for his con- 3, 2), by stating what is his 

duct to Xanthippe, he first (Mem. employment, and enumerating 

ii. 1) lets him give a definition its different parts ; in order to 

of ingratitude, and then he shews prove the being of the gods, he 

that his conduct falls under this begins with the general principle 

conception ; in order to put his that all that serves an end 

duties before a commander of must have an intelligent cause. 



APPLICATION OF HIS METHOD. Ill 

of their office, with artificers and tradesmen about Chap. 

. .VI 
their arts, even with loose women about their mode ! 

of life. Nothing is too small to arouse his curiosity, 
and to be thoroughly and methodically examined by 
him. As Plato at a later time found essential con- 
ceptions in all things without exception, so Socrates, 
purely in the interest of knowledge, referred every- 
thing to the corresponding conception, even where 
no good seemed to result from so doing, either for 
education or for any other purpose. The life and 
pursuits of man were what he considered to be the 
proper object for his enquiries, and other things only 
in as far as they influenced the conditions and the 
occupations of that life. Hence his philosophy, which , 
in a general and scientific point of view was a cri- 
ticism of what is (Siaks/cTifcr}), became in its actual 
application a science of human actions {tjOikt}). 



112 SOCRATES. 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE SUBSTANCE OF THE TEACHING OF SOCRATES : ETHICS. 

Chap. Socrates, says Xenophon, 1 did not, like most other 
philosophers before him, discourse concerning the 



A. Funda- na ture of the All ; he did not enquire into the 

mental re- i-i-i-in n 

striction of essence of the world and the laws of natural pheno- 
themojecu mena5 ^^ n the contrary, he declared it folly to 

/JZUTZeT CO 

Ethics. search into such subjects : for how could it be any- 
thing else but unreasonable to perplex the mind with 
divine things, before fully understanding human 
affairs ? The discordant opinions of natural philoso- 
phers proved that the object of their research tran- 
scended the powers of human knowledge, and after all, 
of what practical use could their enquiries be ? It is 
quite in keeping with this view, that the Socrates 
of Xenophon reduces geometry and astronomy 2 to the 
standard of our absolute wants — the knowledge re- 
quisite for surveying and navigation. Anything 
beyond this he considers to be unnecessary, or even 
impious, for how can men ever understand all the 
mysterious works of the Gods, while it is obvious 
that the Grods do not desire them to possess such 

1 Mem. i.-l f 11. 2 Ibid. iv. 7. 



HIS TEACHING COXFIXED TO ETHICS. 113 

knowledge. Hence all such attempts, those of Ana- Chap. 
xagoras for instance, necessarily involve men in ... 

extravagance. 1 

The accuracy of this description of Socrates has, 
however, not passed unchallenged by modern writers. 2 
Granting, they say, that Socrates really made use of 
these and similar expressions, can he in any way be 
understood to deprecate all speculative enquiry into 
nature ? Would this not be too manifestly at variance 
with his own fundamental notion of the oneness of 
all knowledge ? and would it not lead, if propounded 
as Xenophon has done, to consequences too mani- 
festly untenable ? Even Plato 3 bears testimony to 
the fact that Socrates did not attack natural science 
altogether, but only the ordinary treatment of it, and 
Xenophon himself cannot ignore the fact that on th 
whole his master did study nature, 4 hoping by con- 
sidering the relations of means to ends to gain an 

1 Mem. iy. 7, 6: ti\us 5e tQp 3 Ph^do, 96, A. ; 97, B.; Bep. 
ovpai/icau, fj eKacrra 6 Otbs /j.7]- yii. 529, A. ; Phileb. 28, D. 
X&varai, (ppovTHTTTjv yiyvecOai i Mem. i. 4 ; iy. 3. No ar- 
aTT€Tp€ir€v' ot/re yap evpera &v- gument can be drawn from Mem. 
Opdoirois avra evofxi^ev eivai, outc i. 6, 14 : rovs drjcravpovs rail/ 
■Xapi^adai 0€o?s av 7]y elro rbp iraXai cro(pcoy ai'^pcav, ovs €/ce?j/oi 
CrjTOvj/ra a eKtlvoi <ja<pT)vi(Tai ovk KaTeXiiroy ev fiifixiois ypaipavres, 
i^ov\i]97}crav. Such, subtleties aveXirToov kolvtj crvv ro7s cpiXois 
only led to absurdities, ovfiev Siep^oyucu, for these cro<po\ need 
rjTToj/ 7) 'Ava^ayopas irap€'bp6v7\cr<EV not necessarily be the earlier 
6 fxiyivrov (ppovncras iirl rw ras natural philosophers. 2o0ol is 
7&v dewv /x-rjxayas e^yelaQcu — also used of poets, chroniclers, 
which is then supported by all &c, and it is expressly stated 
kinds of remarks to proye the that Socrates perused the works 
the extrayagance of the notion of the natural philosophers in 
that the sun is a fiery stone. order to find in them what was 

2 Schleiermaeher, Werke, iii. 2, morally useful for himself and 
305-307 : Oeseh. d. Phil. p. 83 ; his friends. 

Brandis, K :ter, Krische, &c. 



114 SOCRATES. 



VII. 



Chap. insight into its reasonable arrangement. Socrates 
may have had no special .talent for natural science, 
and hence not have pursued it as a separate branch of 
study ; but at least the germ of a new form of this 
science may be discovered in his philosophy. In his 
conception of the relations of means to ends, must 
have lain ' the thought of a universal diffusion of 
intelligence through the whole of nature,' the theory 
of an absolute harmony of man and nature, and of 
man's occupying such a position in nature as to be a 
microcosm of the world. 1 If he stopped with the 
microcosm, and confined his study of nature within 
the limits of man's practical needs, he must on his 
own showing have done this only as a preliminary 
step. He must have meant that we ought not to go 
beyond the limits of self until the foundation of a 
constructive criticism (SiaXs/cTifcrj) has been securely 
laid in the depths of our inner life ; or else he must 
be alluding to a popular and not to a philosophical 
method of study. 2 

Unfortunately this view of modern writers rests on 
assumptions which cannot be maintained. In the 
first place not only Xenophon, but even Aristotle, 3 
not to mention later writers, 4 assert that Socrates 



1 Schleiermacher and Ritter. Anim. i. 1, (642, a, 28) : M Sw- 

2 Krische, 208, but Socrates Kpdrovs 5e rovro fxkv [t& bpura- 
made no distinction between aQai rhv ovcriai/] r)v£riBri, rb 8e ^re- 
training for a philosopher and T€?v ra nepl (pvcrevs e\77£e. 
training for a good man. 4 Cic. Tus. v. 4, 10; Acad. 

3 Met. i. 6, (987, b, 1) : 2oj«pa- i. 4, 15 ; iv. 29, 123 ; De Fin. v. 
rovs 5e irepX jikv ra rjdiKa irpa- 29, 87; Rep. i. 10. Sext. Math. 
yfxaTevoiJLei'ov, irepl 5e rrjs oKtjs vii. 8. Grell. N. A. xiv. 6, 5. 
(pvosoos ovdev. xiii. 4; De Part. Diog. ii. 21. 



HIS TEACHING CONFIXED TO ETHICS. 115 

never pursued the study of nature. Aristotle is, Chap. 
however, the authority who must be called in to ' 

arbitrate when Xenophon and Plato differ ; and what 
could justify us in rejecting his testimony on all 
occasions when it is given against that of Plato? 
Plato, however, admits indirectly in the Timseus that 
natural science was foreign to Socrates ; and the few 
maxims about nature w r hich he attributes to him in 
his other writings, cannot be taken as conclusive 
evidence of an opposite tendency. The only passage 
(that in the Phsedo) which seems to lay claim to 
historical accuracy, at least as far as the substance of 
it is concerned, does not say anything more than 
Xenophon had done before, namely, that Socrates 
demanded an investigation of the relations of means 
to ends in nature. Supposing this to be accepted, and 
at the same time a demand to be made that means 
and ends should not be understood in the lower 
sense in which they were understood by a subsequent 
age and also by Xenophon, but that higher specu- 
lative ideas should be taken to be latent in them, 
where, we ask, is the historical justification of this 
view to be found ? Or, again, if an appeal is made 
to the logical consequences which would follow from 
the theory of Socrates, do they not prove that 
Socrates must have been quite serious in disparaging 
a speculative study of nature, and in his popular 
notion of means and ends ? No doubt if he had 
placed his theory of the mutual dependence of all 
knowledge in an explicit form at the head of his 
system, it would be impossible to account for his low 

I 2 



VII 



116 SOCRATES. 

Chap. estimate of physics. But if his object was not know- 
ledge in general, but the education and training of 
men by means of knowledge, is it not very natural 
that his enquiry should take a one-sided turn and 
consider the powers and activities of man himself, 1 
nature being only considered in as far as it is of use 
to man ? The idea of the relation of means to ends 
was, for natural and scientific enquiries, like a seed 
sown broadcast, which sprang up and bore fruit in 
the systems of Plato and Aristotle ; but to Socrates 
himself this new theory of natural science appeared 
only to be a subsidiary branch of his ethical enquiries, 
whilst he was unconscious of all that it involved. 
Ethics only he pursued consciously. Even the study 
of the relation of means to ends in nature was, ac- 
cording to his view, subservient to a moral purpose — 
that of urging his friends to piety. 2 Like all sub- 
ordinate branches of knowledge, it cannot, however, 
be altogether neglected in considering his teaching ; 
but it does not follow that it can be allowed to have 
an independent value, taking it in the sense in which 
it was used by Socrates, or be separated and brought 
into prominence apart from the ethics with which it 
is entirely bound up. 

1 In this respect Socrates is case, as in the other, the one- 
like Kant, and Kant's position sidedness with which the founders 
in history is also not unlike his. began has been supplemented by 
As Kant, after doing away with their disciples, and the treatment 
the older Metaphysics, only re- adopted for Ethics extended to 
tained Ethics, so Socrates, after the whole of philosophy, 
putting natural science out of 2 Xen. Mem. i. 4, 1, and 18 ; iv. 
sight, turned his attention ex- 3, 2 and 17. 
clusively to Ethics. In the one 



HIS TEACHING CONFINED TO ETHICS, 117 

The same may be said of his theology, resting, as Chap. 
it does in this respect on the same footing with ' 



natural science. The motives which deterred him 
from studying the one, must have deterred him from 
studying 1 the other. His definite views about the 
Gods and the worship of the Grods were the offspring 
of a practical love of piety, and his theology can 
therefore be only considered in the light of an 
appendix to ethics. 

Bearing this in mind and confining ourselves to 
ethics, we shall find that even on this subject very 
few definite opinions can be brought home to Socrates 
with certainty. Indeed how could anything else have 
been possible, or how could a systematic treatment be 
given to ethics without a basis of facts either without 
or within for it to rest upon ? All that Socrates did was 
however of a vague and speculative character. Moral 
action was referred to knowledge, but no sooner was 
it necessary to deduce particular moral acts and rela- 
tions from knowledge, than he was content to fall 
back upon prevailing custom, or else to substitute 
the expediency of accident in place of the obligation 
which philosophy requires. 

The fundamental thought of the ethics of Socrates B. The 
may be expressed in the sentence — All virtue is 



leading 
thought of 



1 Xen. Mem. i. 1, 11 ; nothing they advanced to such enquiries, 

impious Tvas ever heard from 3) ra /xhv avdpwmva irapevrss ret, 

Socrates ; ou8e yap irepl rrjs rwv BaifxovicL 5e (Tkottovvtgs rjyovvrai 

iravTQiv (pvcrecas . . . dLtXeyero ra, irpoa-fiKovra TrpdrreLu. and 12 : 

. . . aXKa. kcl\ robs (ppovri^ovras avrbs Be irepl rccv avdpcoireiccv aei 

raroiavrafjicapaivovTas cLTreBeLKWE. dieXeyero, ctkoituv ti vvtreBes "i 

He asked, whether they fully ao-efies, &c. 
understood human things, before 



118 SOCRATES, 

Chap. knowledge. 1 This assertion was most closely con- 
! nected with his whole view of things. His endeavours 



Ethics: All f rom tne g rst a i me d at re-establishing morality and 

virtue is o J 

knowledge, rooting it more deeply by means of knowledge. By 
the experience of his time he was convinced that the 
conventional mode of treating moral questions as 
matters of custom and authority could not hold its 
ground. His sifting of men discovered a pretended 
rather than a genuine form of virtue, even in the 
most celebrated of his contemporaries. 2 If true moral- 
ity was to be attained, it was necessary to make clear 
and certain knowledge the standard of action. The 
idea which had thus dawned upon him was, however, 
as yet understood by him in a narrow and exclusive 
spirit. Knowledge was to be not only an indispen- 
sable condition and an aid to true morality, but it 
was to be the whole of morality. Where knowledge 
was wanting, there not only was virtue imperfect, 
but there was absolutely no virtue at all. The first 
who placed the Socratic doctrine of virtue on a 
broader footing, w r as Plato ; and he was afterwards fol- 
lowed by Aristotle. 

The position thus occupied Socrates established 

1 Arist. Eth. N. vi. 13: ^,co- yap diicaia Kal izdvra oca aperfj 

Kpdrrjs . . (ppovhcreis qjero elvai irpdrrerai KaXa re kcl\ dyadd 

Trdaas ras dperds . . . ^(OKpdrrjs elvai ■ Kal ovt du robs ravra 

fxkv ovv Xoyovs ras dperds cpero eldSras aXXo dvrl rovrcov ovBev 

elvai, iirio'T'fifjLas yap elvai irdaas, irpoeXeo~6ai, ovre robs fir] iiriara- 

Ibid. iii. 11: Eth. Eud. i. 5: fxevovs Svvacrdai irpdrreiv, aXXa 

iirio'T'fi/JLas coer' elvai irdcas ras Kal idv eyxsLp&Giv a\xaprdveiv. 

dperds,&o~d' > aixao~vfxfta>v<ziv eifievai Plato, Lach. 194, D. : iroXXaKis 

tctV SiKai.oo'vvrjv Kal elvai hi Kaiov. d.K'hKod crov Xeyovros otl ralra 

Xen. Mem. iii. 9, 5 : e<p7] be Kal dyaObs eKacros Tjficov airep cocpos, 

T V diKauoffvvriv Kal r^v &XXt)v a Se a/j.a6^s ravra 5e ecaicos. 
v aaav dperrju o~o(piav elvai' rd re 2 Plato, Apol. 21, C. ; 29, E. 



MORAL VALUE OF KXOWLEDGE. 



119 



by maintaining that proper action was impossible 
without proper knowledge, and conversely,, that 
where knowledge existed, right action followed as a 
matter of course. In support of the first of these 
assertions, he argued that no action or possession 
was of any use, unless it was directed by intelligence 
to a proper object; 1 and, in favour of the latter, 
that everyone only did what he believed would be 
of use to himself, 2 in proof of which he reasoned, 
that knowledge was always the strongest power 
in man, and could not be overcome by passion, 3 
and that no one intentionally did wrong. 4 



Crap, 
VII, 



1 It is only in Plato (Euth. 
280, B. ; Meno, 87, C), that So- 
crates is made to take this view 
so expressly, and hence the 
Moralia Magna (i. 35) appear to 
have derived a corresponding 
view, bnt the statement is not 
only very like a Socratic state- 
ment, but it is also hinted at by 
Xenophon, Mem. iii. 9, 14; and 
more definitely expressed Xen. 
(Ec. i. 1, 7. iEschines too in 
Demetrius de Elocn. 297, Rhet. 
G-r. ix. 122, puts the question into 
the mouth of Socrates when 
speaking of the rich inheritance 
of Alcibiades : Did he inherit the 
knowledge how to make use 
of it ? 

2 Xen. Mem. iii. 9, 4; iv. 6, 
6 : cldoras 5e & 8e? ttoie'lv cftei 
tlvcls ofecrdaL 8etV fir) iroieiv ravra ; 
Ovk cnofj.au, 6</>i7. OlSas 5e Tivas 
aAAa -KOiOvvras r) h dtovrai 5e?V ; 
Ovk €yuy\ €(pr}. Conf. Plato, 
Prot. 358, C. 

3 Plato, Prot, 352, C. : ap olv 

Kdl aoi TOLOVTOV TL 7T6pl aVTTJS 
\jT)S iTri(TTT}(JL7}S~] 5o/C€t 7) KaXoV TL 



€ivai 7] eiri(TT7)/jL7), Kcd oiov apx^iv 
tov avdpdoirov kcl\ idvirep yLyvcvcrKT} 
ms rayada kol\ ra kclko. /at] av 

K.p<AT7]Qr\Vai V7TO fJLT}fieVOS, 00O~T€ 

&AA 5 &rra TrpdrTeiv, r) a av 7) 
4irio'Tr)fjLr) KeXevrj, aAA 5 iKavrjv 
elvaL ttju (ppovrjcriv f5or)9e7v rep 
apdpdoTrcp; The latter is then 
asserted with the consent of 
Socrates. Arist. Eth. Nic. vii. 3 : 
e7TL(TrdiJLepop /jl€v ovv ov (pacri rives 
oTov re elvaL [aKpareveaBaC] 
deivbv yap, eiriffT'npi'qs ivoixrrjs, 

&S$€TO ^,Q)KpaT7)S ,a\\0 TL KpaTCLV. 

Eth. Eud. vii. 13: bp6£s to 
^ccKparLKOP, otl ovdev io~x v p6 T £pov 
<ppovr)o~eus • aAA' otl iTrLO-T^firip 
ecbr), ovk opOov, apeTT] yap ecrri 

Ka\ OVK eiTL0~T7)lJL7). 

4 Arist, M. Mor. i. 9 : 2a>- 
KpaTTjs ecprj ovk e(/> 5 r)fj.?v yeveo~dai 
to crirovdaiovs eivai r) <pav\ovs ■ 
€i yap tls, (prjalp, ipoorrjo-eiev 
bvTivaovv, iroTepov av fiovAoiTo 
SiKaLos eivai r) clSlkos, ovOels av 
eXoiTo tt)v adiKlav. More in- 
definite are the remarks in Eth. 
Nic. iii. 7, on the statement or 
ovSels kKwv irovTjpbs ovff CLKWV 



120 SOCRATES. 

Chap. With reference to the virtue of bravery, he more 
vil . . . . 
'__ especially insisted upon it, that in all cases, he who 

knows the true nature of an apparent danger and 
the means of avoiding it, is braver than he who has 
not such knowledge. 1 Hence he concluded that 
virtue was entirely dependent upon knowledge ; and 
accordingly he defined all the particular virtues in 
such a way, as to make them consist in knowledge 
of some kind, their difference beiDg determined 
by the difference of their objects. He is pious, 
who knows what is right towards God ; he is just, 
who knows what is right towards men. 2 He is brave 
who knows how to treat dangers properly ; 3 he is 
prudent and wise who knows how to use what is 
good and noble, and how to avoid what is evil. 4 In 
short all virtues are referred to wisdom or know- 
ledge, which, as far as he is concerned, are one and 

imdKap. Brandis remarks with doice? 5e kclI t) e/jLireipta y Trepl 

justice (Gr. rom. Phil. ii. 39) eKacrra avdpeia ris elvcu • oQev kou 

that this refers to the arguments 6 ^uKpar-qs (u7]9tj eiriarii^v elvai 

of the Platonic Socrates, (see rfyv avhpeiav. 

Meno, 77, P.), but that the same 2 evae^r]s = 6 ra irepl robs deobs 

is asserted by Xenophon, Mem. voyufxa elddbs • Sikcuos = 6 eldws ra. 

iii. 9, 4 iv. 6, 6 and 11 ; and by irepl robs avQpooirovs vo/Mfia. Mem. 

Plato, Apol. 25. E. : eyw Se . . . iv. 6, 4 and 6. 
rovro rb rocrovrov Kcutbv enoov 3 Xen. Mem. iv. 6, 11 : ol fxev 

7roic?, ws (pfjs av ; ravra eyu crol tipa eiriarajxevoL ro7s deiuo7s re 

ov izeiQofxai, d> MeArjre . . el 5e teal eiriKivSvvois KaA&s xP^ (r ^ aL 

&kcov dLacpdeipQo . . . BrjXou on apBpe?oi elo~iv, ol 5e diafiaprdvovres 

eav fxddoo Travcofiai ye &Kcay rovrov SeiAoi. Plato, Prot. 360, 

ttolco. D. : 77 o~o<pia apa r&v delvwv kcl\ 

1 Xen. Mem. iii. 9, 2 ; Symp. /jlt) deiv&v avlpeia eo~nv. 
2, 12: Socrates remarks in re- 4 Mem. iii. 9, 4: (rocpiau $e nal 

ference to a dancing girl, who is a(n<^poavvf\v oh dioopi^ev, aWa rbv 

tumbling among swords, ovroi rd fxev kolXcl re koX dyaOa yiyva>- 

rovs ye Qetajxevovs rd5e dvnXeleiv aKovra xPVo~6ai avrots Kai rbv ra 

en oXofxai, &s ovxL Kal 7] dvfipeia aio~xp a eld or a ev\af$elo~Qai o~o<pov 

didaKroy. Arist. Eth. Nic. iii. 11 : re xal awcppova expive. 



MORAL VALUE OF KNOWLEDGE. 



121 



the same. 1 
many kinds 



The ordinary notion that there are 
of virtue is incorrect. Virtue is in 
truth but one. 2 Even the difference between one 
person and another, one time of life and another, 
one sex and another, is no proof of the contrary. 
For in all cases it is one and the same thing, which 
makes the conduct virtuous, 3 and in all persons the 
same disposition for virtue must be assumed to 
exist. 4 The main point therefore is to cultivate this 
disposition by education. Some may bring with 
them more, and others fewer talents for any parti- 
cular activity, but all alike require exercise and 
education, and those who have the most talents, 
require it most, or else they will be lost in ruinous 
errors. 5 Now, since there is no greater obstacle to 



Chap. 
VII. 



1 Mem. iv. 6, 7 : iitiCT^ixif] &pa 
(To(pia iariv ; 'E/xofye So/ceT. No 
man can know everything, o apa 
€Tri(rraTai eKacros touto kou (To<p6s 

£<TTW. 

2 In addition to Xenophon, 
Plato also developes this in his 
earlier writings, Prot. 329, B. ; 
349, B. ; 360, E. ; which confined 
themselves much more closely to 
the opinions of Socrates. Prom 
this doctrine of Socrates the 
Cynic and Megarian notions of 
the oneness of virtue arose. 

3 Plato (Meno, 71, D.), and 
Aristotle, according to the follow- 
ing passage (Pol. i. 13,) which he 
must in some way have harmo- 
nised with the Socratic teaching : 
cixrre <pai/epov, on i(Tr\v 7)Qikt) 
aperi] rcou elprjfxevccv ttolvtoov, kol\ 
ovx V olvtt\ craxppoo~vv7) yvvaiKOS kcl\ 
ai/fipbs, oi>8 3 avdpia kou Si/ccuocrui'Tj, 
Ka0a7rep $€T-o ^ce/cpar^F , . . ttqKv 



yap &fi€ii/ov \4yovffiv ol i£api- 
6/j.ovvTes ras aperds. 

4 Xen. Sym. 2, 9 : kcu 6 2<w- 

KpOTTJS €LTT€V • iv TTO\\(HS fiei/, do 
avSpes, koX aWois SrjXoy, nal iv 
ols 5' 7] irous iroiei, on t) yvvaiKeia. 
(pvcris ovfitv x^P 0)V r7 ) s T °v wdpbs 
ovo~a rvyx&vei, pcfywjs 5e kol\ laxvos 
Setrai. Conf. Plato, Hep. v. 
452, E. 

3 Mem. iii. 9, 1 ; iv. 1, 3; iv. 
2, 2. The question, which is 
raised in the first of these pas- 
sages with special reference to 
bravery : Whether virtue is a 
natural or an acquired result ; 
the identical question, to which 
Plato devoted a thorough enquiry 
in the Meno and Protagoras, ap- 
pears to have become a favourite 
topic of discussion owing to the 
appearance of the Sophistic 
teachers of virtue ; at least it 
seems so in Xenophon iii. 9, 1, 



122 SOCRATES. 

Chap. true knowledge than imaginary knowledge, it follows 

'__ that in a moral point of view nothing can be more 

necessary than self-knowledge, so that the dark 
semblance of knowledge may be dispelled, and 
human wants and human needs may be brought to 
light. It seems to be assumed by him that right 
action will follow from knowledge, just as bad con- 
duct follows from want of knowledge, and that he 
who knows himself will, without fail, do what is 
right, just as he who is ignorant of himself will, 
without fail, do what is wrong. 1 The man of know- 
ledge can alone do anything that can last ; he alone 
is useful and deserves esteem. 2 In short, knowledge 
is the root of all moral action ; want of knowledge 
the cause of every vice : indeed, if it were possible 
wittingly to do evil, it would be better to do so than to 
commit it unwittingly; for in the latter case the 
first condition of all right action — a moral state of 
mind — would be found wanting, whilst in the former 
case it would be there, the doer being only faithless 
to it for the moment. 3 

and in the Meno. Pindar had pre- their knowledge. Xenophon 

viously contrasted natural and allows, that he showed how little 

acquired gifts. See above, p. 19. useless and ignorant people were 

1 Mem. iv. 2, 24. For ex- esteemed by their own friends 
amples of conversations, in which and relatives ; but he says that 
Socrates endeavoured to bring Socrates did not intend thereby 
his friends to a knowledge of to lead them to despise their 
themselves, see Mem. iii. 6 ; iv. 2. dependants, but only to shew 

2 Mem. i. 2, 52 : the accuser that they must aim at under- 
charged Socrates with inducing standing on to cLcppov &tl{aov 
his followers to despise their ian. 

friends and relations ; for he had 3 Mem. iv. 2, 19: rwv 5e 5^ 

declared, those only ought to be robs (piXovs i^aTrardoi/rcav iirl 

honoured, who were able to make jSAajS?? irorepos adiKtibrepos io'nv, 

themselves useful by means of 6 €kwv, f) 6 '6.kwv\ which is thus 



HIS THEORY ABOUT THE GOOD. 123 

As yet, however, all that has been established is Chap. 

, yjj 

very vague and speculative. All virtue is knowledge, '__ 

but of what is it the knowledge? To this Socrates 9- The 

■ . Good and 

gives the general answer, when he says that it is the Eudm- 

knowledge of the good. He is virtuous, just, brave, momsm - 
and so forth, who knows what is good and right. i 8 \ n ll^ 
But this addition still leaves his criterion as wide ledge about 
and indefinite as it was before. Knowledge which 
makes virtue, is knowledge about the good, but 
what is the good? The good is the conception of 
a thing viewed as an end. Doing what is good, is 
acting up to the conception of the corresponding ac- 
tion, in short, knowledge in its practical application. 
Thus the essence of moral action is not explained by 
the vague definition, that it is a knowledge about the 
good, the right, and so forth. Beyond this, however, 
Socrates did not advance in his philosophy. Just 
as his speculative philosophy stopped with the general 
requirement that knowledge belonged to conceptions 
only, so his practical philosophy stopped with the 
indefinite postulate that actions must correspond 

decided in the sequel : ra Si/ccua knowledge as such, should by 

irorepov 6 kaoov ^evdo/uLtvos Kal virtue of his knowledge do any- 

^airarcov oldev, % b 'clkcov ; AriAov thing but what is right, or that 

otl 6 €Kdbv. AiKcuorepov 5e [<})fis any one spontaneously should 

clvai] tov iirLcrrd/uLevou ra Zikclicl chose what is wrong. If, there- 

tov ixt) £in(TT<ifjL€j'QU ; &alvo/j.ai* fore, an untruth is told knowingly 

Conf. Plato, Rep. ii. 382 ; iii. and intentionally, it can only be 

889, B. ; iv. 459, C. ; vii. 535, E. ; an apparent and seeming untruth, 

Hipp. Min. 371, E. It can only which Plato allows as a means 

be an imaginary case to suppose to higher ends (Rep. ii. 382 ; 

that any one can knowingly and iii. 389, B. ; iv. 459, C.), whereas 

intentionally do what is wrong : want of knowledge is the only 

for according to the principles of proper lie, a proper lie being 

Socrates, it is impossible to con- always unintentional, Rep. ii. 

ceive that the man who possesses 382 ; v. 535, E 4 



124 SOCRATES. 

Chap. with their conceptions. But how with so vaome a 
VII ... ° 

' principle can it be determined what actions are 

moral? To answer this question it either becomes ne- 
cessary to adopt a standard without further thought, 
from the customs prevailing around us, or, in as 
far as the morality of an action is to be brought 
into harmony with the theory of knowledge, the 
standard of morals must be decided by the special 
aims and interests of the doer, that is, by external 
and utilitarian considerations. 
(b) Prac- Both courses were attempted by Socrates. On 
Good is tf je one hand he explained the conception of the 
determined r i^ht by that of the lawful. 1 The best service of 

PlflLPV 0?J 

custom or (rod, he says, is that which agrees with customary 
forms ; 2 and he will not even withdraw himself from 
an unjust sentence, lest he should violate the laws. 3 
On the other hand, as a necessary consequence of 
this view of things, he could not be content with 
existing moral sanctions, but felt obliged to look 
about him for an intelligible standard of morality. 

1 Mem. iv. 6, 6 : Aiicaia 5e Treidonevos, &5i/ca Se 6 rovrois 

olada, ecprj, bizota Ka\e?rai ; — cV A air€i6a>v ; — Tldvv fieu odv. 

ol vofxoi K€\€vov(Tit/ 9 €<j>7). — Ol apa 2 Mem. iv. 3, 16 : Euthy- 

ttoiovvtgs a ol vSfjiot KeXevovat. demus suggests that no one can 

Sinaid T€ iroiovcri kol\ a 8e?; Titos worthily honour the gods. So- 

ydp ov; In Mem. iv. 4, 12, crates tries to refute it: opas 

Socrates says : <pr]ix\ yap iycb rb yap, on 6 eV Ae\(po7s debs orav 

vofML/JLOU Siitaiov elvai, and when ris avrbu eirepoora ttws au rois 

Hippias asks for further infor- deols %api£on-o airoKpiuerai pS/mcp 

mation about what is meant by iroXews. The same principle is 

vofxifxov : vofxovs 5e iro\ews, e<p7i, attributed to Socrates, i. 3, 1. 

yiyvcco-Keis ; — Ovkovv, e<py\, vofii/jLos 3 As Dissenhas already shewn, 

fiev au e%i) 6 Kara ravra [& ol Compare Wiggers, Socrates, p. 

7ro\irai eypdtyavro'] irohirevoyLevos, 187; Hurndall, De Philosophia 

6.U0/J.0S 8e 6 ravra Trapafiaivwv ; Mor.Socr. ; Grote(Hist. of Greece 

Hav i*kv ovv, %<pri. — Ovkovv not viii. 605) agrees with this ex- 

Bittaia jxev av irpdrroi 6 rovrots pression, excepting that he refuses 



APPEAL TO CUSTOM AND UTILITY. 125 

This could not fail to bring him, occupying the Chap - 

ground he did, to a utilitarian standard ; and thus, ! 

his ethical principles are derived by a line of argu- 
ment, which differs in results more than in principles, 
from the moral philosophy of the Sophists. When 
asked whether there could be a good, w T hich did not 
refer to a definite end, he distinctly stated that he 
neither knew, nor desired to know of such a one : l 
everything is good and beautiful in relation to the 
special needs which it supplies. He declared in a 
most emphatic way, that the good is nothing else 
but what is advantageous, the beautiful nothing else 
but what is useful, and that everything is accord- 
ingly good and beautiful in relation to the objects 
for which it is best fitted. 2 The doctrine of the 
involuntary nature of evil he confirmed by remark- 
ing, that everyone does that which he thinks advan- 
tageous for himself, 3 and thus he would practically 
seem to hold that there is no absolute, but only a 
relative good, no standard but advantage and disad- 
vantage, by which good and evil may be tested. 4 In 
the dialogues ofXenophonhe almost always grounded 
his moral precepts on the motive of utility: we should 
aim at being continent, because the continent man 
has a more pleasant life than the incontinent: 5 

to speak of Sophistic morality as 4 On the other hand little stress 

a unity. can be laid upon the treatment of 

1 Mem. iii. 8, 1-7. happiness as the highest end of 

2 Xen. Mem. iv. 6, 8; conf. life in Mem. iii. 2, 4. All G-reek 
iv. 5, 6 ; Symp. 5, 3 ; Plato, philosophers do the same, in- 
Prot. 333, D.\; 353, C. eluding Plato, Aristotle, and even 

3 Xen. Mem. iii. 9, 4 : some- the Stoics. 

thing similar is found in Plato's 5 Mem. i. 5, 6 ; ii. 1, 1 ; conf. 

Protagoras, 358, B. iv. 5, 9. 



126 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
VII. 



(c) The 



character 
of this 
mode of 

treatment 



we should inure ourselves to hardships, because 
the hardy man is more healthy, and because he 
can more easily avoid dangers, and gain honour 
and glory : l we should be modest, because boasting 
does harm and brings disgrace. 2 We should be on 
good terms with our relatives, because it is absurd 
to harm ourselves by those who have been given us 
for our good ; 3 we should try to secure good friends, 
since a good friend is the most useful possession. 4 
We should not withdraw from public affairs, since 
the well-being of the community is the well-being of 
the individual; 5 we should obey the laws, since 
obedience is productive of the greatest good to our- 
selves and to the state ; and we should abstain from 
wrong, since wrong is always punished in the end. 6 
In short, we should live virtuously, because virtue 
carries off the greatest rewards both with God and 
man. 7 Allowing even that the advantages which 
belong to the virtuous man consist in the feeling of 
contentment with his own perfection, 8 yet the 
groundwork of morals is as yet intellectually de- 
fective : for actions are only considered as means for 
producing moral pleasure. 

It is true that in the Socrates of Plato, the super- 
ficial character of this mode of treatment is concealed 
from view by the further thought, that the use of 
virtue is a consequence of its agreeing with a healthy 



1 Mem. iii. 12; ii. 1, 18; conf. 
i. 6. 2 Ibid. i. 7. 

3 Ibid. ii. 3, 19. 

4 Ibid. ii. 4, 5 ; ii. 6, 4. 

5 Ibid. iii. 7, 9 ; ii. 1, 14. 

6 Ibid. iv. 4, 16; iii. 9, 12. 



7 Mem. ii. 1, 27, gives an 
extract from a writing of Pro- 
dicus, the contents of which 
Socrates appropriates. Conf. i. 
4, 18 ; iv. 3, 17. 

8 Mem. i. 6, 9 ; iv. 8, 6. 



SUPERFICIAL TREATMENT OF THE SUBJECT. 127 

state of the soul. 1 But far from our being justified Chap. 
in attributing this further thought to the Socrates 



of history, it must be observed that even Plato conceded 

. %n Plato. 

in the Protagoras puts language m the mouth of 
Socrates which is substantially the same as that 
found in Xenophon. Still less can it be maintained, 2 
that the moral teaching of the above-quoted ex- 
pressions being at variance with other essential parts 
of the system called after the name of Socrates, 
cannot be his : for it is very questionable whether 
this variation is the fault of his biographers. On 
the contrary, it would seem rather to belong to 
Socrates himself; and it is certainly a contradiction 3 
to call virtue the highest end of life, and at the 
same time to recommend it because of the advantages 
it brings. 4 The existence of this contradiction may 

1 Gorg. 467, C. ; 474, C. ; 495, replied that Tvxn and7rpa£ts were 
D. ; 499, C. ; Kep. iv. 444, E. ; x. two things perfectly distinct : to 
612, A. fJikv yap /jl^ ^rovvra iirnvy&v 

2 As Erandis and Hitter main- rivi rosv deovroov evrvxiav olfiai 
tain in opposition to the view of thai • to 5e fxaQovrari koll jueAeT^- 
Xenophon. cravra ev iroieli/ evirpa^iav vo/n'ifa. 

3 As Plato has already re- But this distinction could be 
marked, Kep. ii. 362, E. ; Phsedo, admitted even by a decided 
68, D. advocate of Eudsemonism, such 

4 What Brandis has elsewhere as Aristippus, as soon as he 
asserted appears to be less open allowed that true and lasting 
to objection, viz. that Socrates happiness is to be attained not 
distinguishes mere good fortune by the uncertain favour of chance, 
from really faring well, and but by the exercise of the under- 
that he only allows happiness in standing, and that man must be 
its ordinary sense a place among active himself in order to have a 
things relatively good. The right enjoyment of life. The 
former is in Mem. iii. 9, 14 ; the other passage is to be found in 
latter in iv. 2, 34. It is there a conversation with Euthydemus, 
stated, that he declared eb-n-fja^ia the object of which is to convince 
to be KpaTLffrov avSpl en-w^Sei^a, him of his ignorance of what is 
but that in answer to the ques- good and what is evil. After it 
tion, What is evrvx'i-a ? he had has been proved that all things 



128 SOCRATES. 

Chap. however be understood from the purely theoretical 

! character of the Socratic conception of virtue, which 

makes morality consist in knowledge, but at the 
same time does not explain what is the object of 
knowledge. From such a theory it is impossible to 
deduce definite moral actions, and no other alternative 
remains but to discover them in some other way, 
by a reference to experience and to the well-known 
consequences of actions. We can then hardly be 
justified in taking the most absolute statements 
found in Xenophon, which assert the identity of the 
good and the useful, for mere fragments of conversa- 
tions which really aim at an opposite result — that of 
proving their essential difference. We should on 
the whole hesitate to declare a trait fictitious, which 
is not only found in scattered utterances of the 
Socrates of Xenophon, but runs through his whole 
description from beginning to end, unless undeniable 
testimony can be produced to that effect. We should 
also demur to throwing doubts on Xenophon's nar- 
rative to such an extent, that it would be almost 
useless as a historical source. The very fact that 

considered by Euthydemus to there is none which is not the 

be goods, wisdom included, may source of much evil. Far from 

under certain circumstances be denying, this proceeds on the 

disadvantageous, Euthydemus distinct understanding that happi- 

says : wSvvtvti — h'ajx<pL\oyd)ra- ness is the highest good. All 

7ov ayadbv ehai to ebZaiixovelv, to that is required is, that an in- 

which Socrates replies : d ye ph dependent value should not be 

ris avrb e£ a/ji(pL\oydov ayaOccu attributed to particular goods, 

G-vvriOeirj, or as it is immediately but that they should be valued 

explained, e? ye fir] irpoo-Qrio-ofxev in proportion to their contribu- 

avrco kolKKos 7? Icrxvv ^? irKovrov $ tions to the sum of human well 

8o|ai> ^) Kai tl &\\o rcau toiovtow, being, 
since among all these things 



SUPERFICIAL TREATMENT OF MORALS. 



129 



the Cyrenaic doctrine of pleasure found a place 
among the Socratic schools, by the side of the rigid 
morality of the Cynics and the captious logic of the 
Megarians, 1 is in itself a testimony to the truth of 
Xenophon's description. The founder of the Cyre- 
naics, from all we can judge, firmly believed that he 
was clinging to the true spirit of the Socratic teach- 
ing; and it would be impossible to explain this fact 
at all unless Aristippus had found in the teaching of 
Socrates some link with which to connect his own. 
In theory, the Socratic doctrine of morals is far 
from being based upon pleasure ; but nevertheless 
in its logical development it has the appearance 
of being founded on utility. Did not even Kant, 
despite his ordinary strictness, follow a utilitarian 
line of argument in proving the immortality of the 



Chap. 
VII 



1 Hermann (Plato, i. 257) has 
rightly drawn attention to this. 
But when he finds in the princi- 
ple of relative value (or as he 
calls it, ' Das Vorherrschen der 
Kelativitat') not merely a weak 
point in the philosophy of So- 
crates, but at the same time an 
instance of Socratic modesty, one 
feels inclined to ask, In what does 
this modesty consist? And when 
he connects with this the more 
general doctrine, which in his 
view distinguishes the Socratic 
dialectic from the Sophistic, and 
is the foundation of the Socratic 
maxims on the truth of universal 
conceptions — the doctrine that- 
all accidental qualities are re- 
lative, and that all grouping 
under conceptions has only a 
practical and unessential impor- 



tance — he appears to advocate a 
doctrine neither to be found in 
the Memorabilia (iii. 8, 4-7 ; 10, 
12; iv. 6, 9; 2, 13), nor in. the 
Hippias Major (p.288)— thelatter 
in other respects a very doubtful 
authority. It is indeed stated in 
these passages, that the good and 
the beautiful are only good and 
beautiful for certain purposes by 
virtue of their use, but not that 
every application of these attri- 
butes to a subject has only a 
relative validity. This statement, 
however, would not under any 
circumstances prove a distinction 
between the Socratic and the 
Sophistic philosophy ; since the 
characteristic of the Sophists 
consisted in their allowing only 
a relative value to all scientific 
and moral principles. 



130 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
VII. 



D. Par- 
ticular 
moral rela- 
tions. 



(a) Indivi- 
dual inde- 
pendence. 



soul ? We would not therefore blame Socrates for 
being deficient in moral depth, but for failing to give 
a satisfactory intellectual development to the deeper 
truth of his doctrine. 

To give a systematic account of moral actions was 
not a part of the intention of Socrates. His views 
were from time to time expanded as occasion offered, 
and chance has, to a certain extent, decided which of 
his dialogues should come down to us. Still it may 
be assumed that Socrates kept those objects more 
especially in view, to which he is constantly revert- 
ing, according to Xenophon's account of him. In 
addition to his general demand for moral knowledge, 
and for knowledge of self, we may notice three such 
points in particular: — 1. The independence of the 
individual as secured by freedom from wants and 
desires ; 2. The higher side of social life, as seen 
in friendship ; 3. The demand for a commonwealth 
on a regularly organised plan. And to these may 
be added the question, 4. Whether, and How far, 
Socrates advanced beyond the ordinary morality of 
the Greeks by insisting on the duty of loving one's 
enemies ? 

Not only was Socrates himself a model of self-de- 
nial and abstemiousness, but he endeavoured to foster 
the same virtue in his friends. When was a subject 
more often the topic of conversation than abstemious- 
ness in the dialogues of Xenophon ? And did not 
Socrates distinctly call moderation the corner-stone l 



1 Mem. i. 5, 4 : apd ye ov xpb iyupdreiav aperrjs chai Kprjirlda, 
ttdvra tivfiaa % r)W(rduet/ov «-*w ravrriy ttpwtov kv rrj tyvxy Kara- 



VII. 



MENTAL INDEPENDENCE. 131 

of all virtue? On this point his opinions nearly Chap. 
agreed with those which afterwards played so im- 
portant a part in the schools of the Cynics and Stoics. 
Man can only become master of himself by being 
independent of his wants, and by the exercise of his 
powers ; while depending on the conditions and 
pleasures of the body, he resembles a slave. 1 The 
philosopher who considers knowledge to be the highest 
good, will naturally insist upon the mind's devoting 
itself to the pursuit of truth, in preference to every 
other thing, without allowing its meditations to be 
disturbed by the desires and appetites of the senses : 2 
the less value he attaches to external things and the 
more closely he perceives happiness to be bound up 
with the intellectual condition of man, the more 
pressing will he feel the call to carry these principles 
into practice, by really becoming independent of the 
external world. But all those other motives, which 
co-operated in leading the moralists of a later epoch 
to the same conclusion, were unknown to Socrates. 
He was not an ascetic in relation to the pleasures of 



(TKevdrrao-dai ; This does not con- Symp. 8, 23. 

tradict the assertion that all ' l This connection appears 

virtue consists in knowledge. If clearly Mem. iv. 5, 6. When 

Socrates had at all reflected, he Socrates had shown that want of 

would have explained moderation moderation makes man a slave, 

as a kind of knowledge. The whilst moderation makes him 

above quoted passage might then free, he continues : vocpiav 5e to 

be taken to mean, that the con- fxiyi(Trou ayaObv ov 5ok€? croi 

viction of the worthlessness of aireipyovcra toov avQpoo'Kwv 7} 

sensual enjoyments must precede aKpacria els rovvavriov avrovs e/j.- 

every other moral knowledge. fi&hXeiv ; for how can any one 

1 Xen. Mem.-, i. 5, 3 ; i. 6, recognise and choose what is good 

5; ii. 1, 11; i. 2, 29; hi. 13, and useful, if he is ruled by the 

3 ; and, in particular, iv. 5, 2 ; desire of what is pleasant ? 

K 2 



132 SOCRATES. 

Chap. the senses, but displayed less strictness than might 
'__ have been anticipated, neither shrinking from enjoy- 
ment, nor yet feeling it needful. To continue master 
of himself in the midst of the allurements of the 
senses, by the unruffled dignity of his own inner 
life — that was the aim which his moderation proposed 
to itself. 

The language which Socrates uses in reference to 
certain indulgences may serve to illustrate this. 
However exemplary his own conduct was in con- 
trolling his passions, yet, in theory, he does not 
object to more or less of license, provided it be not 
carried too far, so as to be out of proportion to the 
requirements of the body, or a hindrance to higher 
ends. 1 Independence of mind, not strict purity, was 
the leading thought of his moral teaching. 
(b) Friend- To supplement this purely negative condition of 
s tp ' morality, a positive side was necessary ; and here the 

connection between man and his fellowmen was 
ready at hand in its simplest form — that of friend- 
ship. This relation, as we have already remarked, 
was defended by Socrates, on the ground of its ad- 
vantages ; but it cannot be denied that it possessed 
both for himself and for his philosophy, a deeper 

1 Mem. i. 3., 14: ovrca 8?) kcll good, and partly to the harm it 

a<ppo§i(Tid£eiv robs /jl^ a&tyaX&s does to property, honour, and 

exovTasTTpbs a(ppo§i(Tia m (?eTo -xprji/ai personal security. Socrates con - 

irpbs Toiavra, ola /jlt] iravv fxkv siders it ridiculous to incur 

deofxevov rod (rcofiaros ovk Uv danger and trouble for the sake 

717)00-5 e'£cuTo tyvxJ), Beofiii/ov 5e ovk of an enjoyment, which could be 

av irpdy/jLara irapexoi. The last procured in a so much simpler 

remark applies partly to the manner from any common girl, 

prejudicial workings of passion, Mem. ii. 1, 5 ; 2, 4. The use 

which makes a slave of man, which the Cynics made of these 

and deters him from what is principles will be seen hereafter. 



FRIENDSHIP. 133 

meaning, which was the cause of its being zealouslv Chap. 

VII 
cultivated by all the Socratic schools. Since the ____1_ 

possession of knowledge is the condition of all mo- 
rality, philosophers, or those whose object it is to 
possess knowledge, need in the first place the help of 
each other to supply their moral wants ; for true 
moral advancement can only be gained from one's 
equals in knowledge. Thus the identity of moral 
and scientific interests introduced a more intimate 
sympathy between teacher and pupil, and between 
pupils amongst themselves, than could have re- 
sulted from an association of an exclusively in- 
tellectual character. The same causes were now 
again being called into action, which had produced 
such effect in former times, when as lively a sym- 
pathy and as strong an appreciation of friendship 
and brotherhood had shown themselves in the Py- 
thagorean association — the result of a common pecu- 
liarity, their moral and religious tone of life. Nor 
was Socrates wanting in impressive discourses on the 
value and nature of friendship. 1 In these he always 
comes back to the point, that true friendship can 
only exist amongst virtuous men, and that for them 
it is altogether natural and necessary ; true friends, 
he says, will do everything for one another, but they 
can only be secured by virtue and active bene- 
volence. 2 

From this vantage ground of true friendship the 

1 Mem. ii. 4-6. for us to be able to gain from 

2 Similar explanations are them any information about 
worked into the Platonic Lysis, Socrates. 

but probably in too free a mawifip 



134 SOCRATES. 

Chap. prevailing practice is then criticised. Socrates not 
' only allows sympathy to assume the Greek form of 
love in the case of boys and men, but he adopts that 
form of it himself, and it can hardly be merely out 
of deference to the notions of others. But, in apply- 
ing his own moral principles to this relation, he 
opposes the prevailing abuses, and demands their 
reformation, in order that the sensual concep- 
tion of Eros may be transformed into the moral 
conception of Friendship. 1 True love, he declares, 
can only then be said to exist, when the good of the 
loved object is pursued disinterestedly ; not when, 
with reckless selfishness, aims are directed and means 
employed, by which both persons become mutually 
contemptible. Unselfishness alone can secure fidelity 
and constancy. The plea that the attractions of one 
merit the kindly offices of another is wholly a mis- 
taken one : for immorality and immodesty can never 
be used as means to moral ends. 2 

It would appear that with these principles Socrates 
was enunciating to his cotemporaries a new truth, or 
at least recalling one long since forgotten. 3 But in 
his low estimate of marriage he agreed with his 
countrymen. This was no doubt partly a conse- 
quence, resulting from the unnatural vice of the 
Greeks, but it was no less, in some degree, the cause 



1 Xen. Symp. 8, 12, the lead- (rxwrlav kol aKpaclav irap^xofjievov 
ing thought of which at least iyKpari) kcll aldov,uevov rbv ipw/j.€- 
is Soeratic. vov -noir\<jai. 

2 Symp. 8, 27: ov yap oUv re 3 Conf. Plato. Symp. 178, C. ; 
irovrjpa avibv iroiovvra ayaQbv rbv 180, C. ; 216, E. 

(Tvvovra a-JTodei^ai, ovd4 ye a.vcu~ 



THE STATE. 135 

of that vice. 1 Without denying to women a moral Chap. 
disposition similar to that of men, and whilst even ' 

maintaining with some of them an intellectual inter- 
change of opinions, his remarks on married life are 
yet more in keeping with the husband of Xanthippe, 
than with the friend of Aspasia. He allows that an 
able woman is as useful in a family as a man, and he 
reproaches men for not caring about the education 
of their wives, 2 but he considers the procreation of 
children the end of marriage, 3 and his own conduct 
shows little love for domestic life. 4 His social and 
his personal instincts are satisfied by friendly inter- 
course with men ; in their society he sees a means of 
fulfilling his peculiar mission as an educator of man- 
kind ; and, more than this, with the peculiarity of a 
Greek, he considers the state, and not the family, to 
be the chief object of moral interest. 

Of the state, and the duties it entails, a very high ( c ) The 

J ° state. 

notion is entertained by Socrates. He who would 
live amongst men, he says, must live in a state, be it 
as ruler or as subject. 5 Not only is unconditional 
obedience to the laws required by him to such an 
extent that the conception of justice is reduced to 

1 Conf. Plato, Symp. 192, A. tenderness), and besides this, the 

2 Xen. (Ec. 3, 10 ; but the joking character of the conver- 
question may be raised, in how sation in Xen. Symp. 2, 10, be 
far the substance of these re- thrown into the scale against the 
marks applies to Socrates himself, passage in Plato, Apol. 34, D., 
Symp. 2, 9. the balance of certainty is, that 

3 Mem. ii. 2, 4. Socrates lired almost entirely 

4 If, in addition to the trait in public, and almost never at 
described by Plato, Phsedo, 60, home. 

A., the character of Xanthippe 5 Mem. ii. 1, 12. 
(which has no pretensions to great 



136 SOCRATES. 

Chap. that of obedience to law, but he desires every com- 

L_ petent man to take part in the administration of the 

state, the well-being of individuals depending on the 
well-being of the community. 1 These principles 
were really carried into practice by him throughout 
an entire life. With devoted self-sacrifice his duties 
as a citizen were fulfilled, and even death was endured 
in order that he might not violate the laws. He 
even regarded his philosophic labours as the fulfilment 
of a duty to the state, and, according to Xenophon's 
Memorabilia, he appears to have used every op- 
portunity for urging able people to political activity, 
for deterring the incompetent, for awakening officials 
to a sense of their duties, and for giving them direc- 
tion in the administration of their offices. 2 The 
political character of his labours was best expressed, 
when he included 3 all virtues in his conception of 
the art of ruling. 4 

But whilst deferring in this way to the Grecian 
view of the state, he is in other respects widely 
estranged from it. If knowledge is the condition of 
all true virtue, it must be no less the condition of 
all true political virtue, and all the more so because 
the conception of political virtue is the higher one. 

1 Mem. iii. 7, 9. country he belonged, he replied 

2 Mem. iii. 2-7. that he was a citizen of the 

3 j8a<nA(/o7 rex^r; in Mem. ii. 1, world, cannot command credit, 
17 ; iv. 2, 11. In Plato, Euthyd. and the question itself sounds 
291, B., ttoKltlk)] stands for strange as addressed to Socrates 
fiacnhiK-i}. in Athens. The story has pro- 

4 Accordingly the story told bably been attributed to him by 
by Cicero, Tusc. v. 37, 108, and some later philosopher who prided 
Plut. de Exil. c. 5, p. 600, that in himself on being a citizen of the 
answer to the question, to what world. 



THE STATE. 137 

Hence everyone who aspires to the position of a Chap. 

statesman is required to prepare himself for this [ 

calling l by a thorough self-enquiry and a course of 
intellectual labour ; and conversely, Socrates refuses 
to recognise those as qualified or rightful aspirants 
to political offices, who do not fulfil the preparatory 
condition ; it is not the possession of power, nor the 
fortune of the lot, nor a popular election, but know- 
ledge alone, which confers a claim to rule. 2 With 
reference to the sovereignty of the masses, he asks 
how it can be possible for a statesman, desirous of 
furthering right and justice, to maintain himself 
against them; and when the masses are in power, 
what else can an upright man do but withdraw to 
a life of retirement ? 

A principle was here advocated, which brought 
Socrates not only into collision with the Athenian 
democracy, but with all the political notions of the 

1 Mem. iii. 6, particularly to- 2 Similar views are advocated 

wards the end ; iv. 2, 6 ; Plato, by Plato with the same illustra- 

Symp. 216, A. tions, Polit. 297, D., and they 

- Mem. iii. 9, 10: /3cunAe?s 5e appear to have been generally 

Kai apxovras ov tovs to. (TKriirrpa held in the school of Socrates. 

exovTas ecpT) elvai, ou5e tovs vnb Thus according to Xenophon, the 

tcov tvxovtoov alpedevras, ovde tovs accuser charges Socrates with 

KX-qpcc AaxoWas, ou5e tovs fiiao-a- haying contributed to bring exist- 

ixevovs, ovdh tovs i^uirarrjo-avTas, ing institutions into contempt : 

dAAa tovs iTTio'Tafj.ei'ovs apx €LU '• Ae-yaw cos n&pwv etr] tovs fxkv rrjs 

in all other cases obedience is irokecos apxovras airb Kvdfiov Ka- 

given to men of professional dio'TaaBai, KvftepvrjTr} Be /mrj^eva 

knowledge; — which is then illus- OeAeiv Kexp'/?cr0cu Kvapevra) /x.o?8e 

trated by the example of phy- t4ktovi jjlt]^ avKrjTrj fi-rib" e7r' aAAa 

sicians, pilots, and others. Simi- Toiavra. and Xenophon does not 

larly in Mem. iii. 5, 21, and 4, 9: deny the accuracy of this state- 

\e7c0 eyooye, ebs otov av ris irpo- ment, but only attempts to prove 

o-Tarevr), iav yiyvwaKri t€ &v 5e? the harmlessness of such prin- 

Kal TovTa Tropi^adai $vj/r}Tai, aya- ciples. 
60s av eirj i?poCTary]s. 



138 SOCRATES. 

Chap. Greeks. Instead of recognising the equality of all, 
_ or the privileges belonging to birth and wealth, he 

demanded an aristocracy of intelligence ; instead of 
citizen-rulers, he demanded a race of officials intel- 
lectually educated ; instead of a dominion of races 
and tribes, which is at the root of the Greek states, 
he demanded a government by professional adepts in 
their particular calling, which Plato, consistently de- 
veloping the principles of Socrates, attempted to 
realise in his philosophic community. 1 In this 
Socrates followed the Sophists, who were the first to 
give a preparatory course of study, but who also made 
that course a necessary qualification for entering on 
a statesman's career. But his aim was entirely dif- 
ferent to theirs. To him the end of politics was 
not the power of the individual, but the well-being 
of all ; the object of study was not personal skill, 
but the attainment of truth ; the means of culture 
was not the art of persuasion, but the science of 
what really is. Socrates aimed at a knowledge 
which should reform the state, the Sophists at one 
by which it might be governed. 

This aristocratic view of politics might appear to 
be contradicted by the freedom with which Socrates 
rose above the social prejudices of his nation, opposing 
the scorn usually lavished on trade by the maxim, 
that no useful activity is a fit object of scorn, be it 
what it may, but that idleness and inactivity alone 
deserve contempt. Both the one and the other of 

1 Plato, Apol. 31, E. ; Conf. Kep. vi. 496, C. 



LOVE FOR ENEMIES. 139 

these opinions, however, was derived from the same Chap. 
source. He would have the value of the individual 



in the state measured by his abilities, but at the same 
time he would have every occupation appreciated, 
which leads to any good result. 1 Here, as elsewhere, 
the conception of good was paramount with Socrates. 

One consequence of having the standard of mora- (d) Love 
lity fixed by the state in Greece, was that the duty ^ emies 
of the virtuous man was traditionally summed up as 
doing good to friends and harm to foes. Xenophon 
put this definition in the mouth of Socrates, 2 at 
the same time considering it most natural that he 
should feel pain at the success of his enemies. 3 
But in one of the earliest and most historical of 
Plato's dialogues, 4 Socrates declares it to be wrong 
to injure others : for injury being the same thing as 
wrong-doing, no one ought to wrong another under 
any circumstances, not even if he has been pre- 
viously wronged by him. It is difficult to reconcile 
these conflicting accounts : 5 for assuming that the 

1 Mem. i. 2, 56. In keeping 2 Mem. ii. 6, 35 : kcl\ oti iyvw- 

with this, he urges a friend (ii. 7) kols avZpas apeTT]v ehai vikvlv tovs 

to employ the maids of his house /aeu cpiXovs ev iroiovvra tovs 5e 

in woollen work, and another (ii. ixBpovs KaKtos. 
8) to seek for occupation as a 3 Mem. iii. 9, 8 : <pdopov 5e 

steward, in "both cases refuting gkoizoov o tl eX-q, \virr}v fxh nva, 

the objection, that such an occu- i^evpLo-Keu avrbv ovra, ovre [xkvToi 

pation was unbecoming for free tt\v iirl (piKcov cnvyiais ovre rrju 

men. Xenophon held a very e7r 5 ixOpav €UTu%iais yiyvo^vriv. 
different view on the subject (see 4 Crito 49, A. Also Eep. i. 

<Ec. 4, 2, and 6, 5), and it is well 334, B. 

known that Plato did so also. 5 Meiner's view (G-esch. der 
Socrates speaks as the son of a Wissenschaft. ii. 456) that So- 
poor labourer. Xenophon and crates considered it allowable to 
Plato as men of rank and pro- do harm (bodily) to enemies, but 
perty. not to injure them in respect of 



140 SOCRATES. 



VII. 



Chap. Socrates of Xenophon was onty speaking from a 
popular point of view, the fact remains that Xenophon 
appears to have known nothing of such expressions 
as those given by Plato. On the other hand, although 
doubts may be raised as to the strict truth of all 
that Plato says in the Crito, he can hardly be charged 
with a flagrant deviation from his master's teach- 
ing in a dialogue, written (as it probably was) almost 
immediately after the death of Socrates. That 
it is possible, cannot be denied, and therefore we 
must be content to remain in uncertainty as to 
w 7 hether the real principles of Socrates on this sub- 
ject are more correctly expressed by Xenophon or by 
Plato. 1 

their true well-being, for which him thought unworthy of a free- 
he alleges that Xenophon ex- man, it by no means follows from 
pressly allows kclkoos iroteli/ while this that he disapproved of sla- 
Plato as expressly forbids it, is very ; and the view that slavery is 
not altogether satisfactory. contrary to nature (mentioned by 
1 Still less are we justified in Aristotle, Polit. i. 3) is not at- 
asserting — as Hildebrand ap- tributed to Socrates as its author, 
pears inclined to do (' Xenophont. Had it belonged to him, it would 
et Arist. de (Economia publica undoubtedly have been mentioned 
Doctrma,' part i.) that Socrates as his. But the description does 
was in principle opposed to sla- not apply to Socrates at all, to 
very. If many things which whom the distinction between 
according to Grecian prejudices (pvjei and v6fxco was strange. We 
belonged to slaves were not by ought rather to think of the Cynics. 



VIEWS OF NATURE. 141 



means to 
ends in 
nature. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

CONTINUATION. ON NATURE. GOD AND MAN. 

Enquiries into nature, we have seen, did not form Chap. 
part of the scheme of Socrates. But, nevertheless, VIIL 
the direction taken by his speculations led him to a A. Subor- 

-,. . p, i«ii« a i dination of 

peculiar view 01 nature and its design. Any one who 
would consider the problem of human life atten- 
tively from so many points of view as he did, could 
not fail to observe that in many ways life bore a 
relation to the outer world. These relations, when 
judged by the standard which to Socrates appeared 
to be the highest type — the standard of what is useful 
for man — led him to the conviction, that the whole 
arrangement of nature was subservient to the well- 
being of the human race, in short that it was good 
and suited to a purpose. 1 To his mind, all that is 
good and serves a purpose appeared of necessity to 
be the work of reason ; for just as man cannot do 
what is useful without intelligence, no more is it 
possible for what is useful to exist without intelli- 
gence. 2 His view of nature, therefore, was essen- 

1 For Socrates, as has been 2 See Mem. i. 4, 2, in which 
already shown, understands by the argument from analogy 
the good, what is -useful for man. is most clearly brought out. 



142 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
VIII. 



(a) TJie 
superficial 
character 
of his way 
of conceiv- 
ing the re- 
lation of 
means to 



tially that of a system of means subordinated to ends, 
but their connection did not appear to him in the 
light of an inward necessity, by which the minutest 
bearings of the several parts upon each other might 
be explained, and the general purposes understood 
for which they existed and developed themselves; 
but, on the contrary, it seemed to be purely an 
accident, everything as a matter of experience, con- 
ducing to the good of man as its highest end. How 
this was brought about was only explained in the 
same popular manner by an appeal to the regulating 
power of reason, which, like an artificer, has framed 
things for purposes which appear to be accidental. 

In the ethics of Socrates, the knowledge which was 
intended to exercise dominion over human actions 
was practically reduced to a superficial reflection on 
the good of particular courses of conduct. In the 
same way, the knowledge which formed the world 
could only be explained in his physics in a manner 
equally superficial. Thus, to show 1 what care has 
been taken to provide for man's needs he appeals to 
light, water, fire and air, to the sun shining by day, 



Socrates is desirous of con- 
vincing friend of the exist- 
ence of the Gods,, and in this 
view proposes to him the ques- 
tion : Whether more intelligence 
is not required to produce living 
beings than to produce paintings 
like those of Polyclete and Zeu- 
xis ? Aristodemus will only allow 
this conditionally, and, in one 
special case, eftrep ye fir) rvxv 
tlvX aA\ s vtrh yvdofjLTis ravTa ysye- 
V7}rai, but he is immediately met 



by Socrates with the question: 
t&v 8e CLTeKfidpTccs exovrocv orov 
%veKa icrri kcu rav (pavepoos in 3 
axpeXeia ovroov trorepa tu^s, Kal 
irorepa yv&\xy\s epya Kpiveis ; Tlpi- 
7ret fieu, he is obliged to confess, 
ret e7r' u(pe\€ia yivofisva ypcafiris 
thai epya. Compare also Plato, 
Phsedo, 96, A., who is however 
here immediately describing his 
own intellectual training. Also 
Arist. M. Mor. i. 1. 
1 Mem. i. 4 ; iv. 3. 



RELATION OF MEANS TO ENDS. 143 

and the moon and the stars by night, to the heavenly Chap. 

bodies serving for divisions of seasons, to the earth's '__ 

supplying us with food and other necessaries, and to 
the change of seasons, which prevents excessive heat 
or cold. He reminds us of the advantages we derive 
from cattle, from oxen, from pigs, horses, and other 
animals. To prove the wisdom of the Craftsman who 
made man, 1 he refers to the organism of the 
human body, to the structure of the organs of sense, 
to the erect posture of man, to the priceless skill of his 
hands. He recognises a proof of a divine Providence 
in the natural impulse for propagation and self- 
preservation, in the love for children, in the fear of 
death. He is never weary of exalting the intellectual 
advantages of man, his ingenuity, his memory, his 
intelligence, his language, his religious disposition. 
He considers it incredible that a belief in God and in 
Providence should be naturally inborn in all men, 
and have propagated itself from time immemorial, 
not only clinging to individuals in the vigour of 
their age, but to whole nations and communities, 
unless it were really true. He appeals also to special 
revelations, which are vouchsafed to men for their 
good, either by prophecy or prognostications — all 
of which may appear unscientific arguments, but 
became nevertheless of very great importance for 
philosophy in the sequel. 

Notwithstanding all their defects, the moral 

1 In Mem. i. 4, 12, a remark a<ppo$icria>p ydovas toIs jx\v &\Aois 

is found indicative of the popular fyois dovvcu irepiypd^auras rov 

character of these general con- stovs x?^ vov i Vtuv 5e avi/ex&s 

siderations : rb 8e kcu tcls tcov ^XP l vhpws ravia irapextw, 



144 SOCRATES. 

Chap. enquiries of Socrates established a scientific doctrine 

L_ of morals ; notwithstanding his popular treatment, 

(b) The the theory of the adaptation of means to ends intro- 

vaiue oj ° L 

this theory duced that ideal method of viewing nature, which 
vhihfoTh ever a ^ er re ^g ne( i supreme in the natural philosophy 
of the Greeks, and together with all its attendant 
abuses proved itself of so much value for the em- 
pirical study of nature. It would appear, indeed, 
that he was hardly aware how great a service he was 
rendering to the science of nature, having only con- 
sidered the fitness of means to ends in the world, in 
the interest of piety and morals. At the same time, 
it may be observed how closely his view of nature 
was connected with the theory that knowledge applies 
only to conceptions, and how on the other hand, the 
shortcomings of that view were due to the undeveloped 
character of his intellectual principles. 
B. Qod If> m the next place, we ask what was the notion 

and the which Socrates formed to himself of the reason that 

worship of 

God. created the world, the reply is, that he mostly speaks 

(a) Popu- of Gods in a popular way as many, 1 meaning by 
the Term that, the Gods of the popular faith. 2 But he also 
Gods. clearly perceived the oneness of God in contrast with 

this multiplicity, as is not uncommonly met with 
in the case of other Greeks : 3 in one passage he 
even distinguishes the creator and ruler of the uni- 
verse from the rest of the Gods. 4 Do we not 

1 Mem. i. 1, 19 ; 3, 3 ; 4, 11 ; twos 8-n/uuovpyov kcl\ (piKoC^ov — 

IV. 3, 3. TOV TOV 060V OtydaAfJLOP, T7\V TOV 

2 Mem. iv, 3, 16. 6eov (ppov-qviv. 

3 Mem. i. 4, 5 ; 7, 17: o e£ 4 Mem. iv. 3, 13. The gods 
apxrjs Troicov aydpcairovs, — aocpov are invisible ; o'l re yap &A\oi 



COXCUPTIOX OF GOD. 145 

recognise here, that union of polytheism and mono- Chap. 

theism, which lay so ready at hand to a Greek, and '__ 

which was brought about by reducing the many 
Gods of the popular faith to the rank of vassals of 
One Supreme God ? 

In as far as a consideration of the world, and its (b) God 
reasonable arrangement conducted Socrates to the as f^^ea- 
notion of One Supreme Being, the mode in which sonofthe 

t» « ti tt t world. 

he conceived this Being was like that 01 Heraclitus 
and Anaxagoras : God appeared as Reason ruling the 
world, and holding the same relation to the world that 
the soul does to the body. 1 Hence came his high and 
pure ideas of God as a being invisible, all-wise, all- 
powerful, present everywhere. As the soul, without 
being visible, visibly affects the body, so God affects 
the world. As the soul exercises unlimited dominion 
over the small portion of the world which belongs to 
it — its individual body — so God exercises dominion 

7)/mv ra ayada S&ovres ovdep zlvai . . . koX T<x5e Ta vn^pfxeyiBf] 

rovrocv ets rov/xcpavh loures Biboa- koX irXriBos aireipa (the elements, 

civ, kol\ 6 rbv oaov Koo-fAov (TuvtcLt- or generally, the parts of the 

row re KaX avvexcov, eV w irdura world) 01 acppoavvrjv nvd ovroos 

Ka\d Kal dya(?d ear i, Kal del jxev oUievr auras ex$w \ 17: Kard/xaBe 

XpM^vois aTptfiri re Kal vytd on KaX 6 abs vovs evoov rb abv 

KaX dyr]parov Trapex^^, Bdrrov aco/j.a oircos fiov\erai /nerax&pi- 

8e voi]fxaros dvajxapr'qrcos virype- £erai m oXe^Bai ow xph KaX rr\v ev 

rovvra, ovros ra fxeyiara fxev raj rravrl (ppovriaiv ra irdvra ottcos 

irydrraov oparai, rdoe de oIkovo- av avrfj rjbv 77, ovrco riBeaBai • Kal 

fxuv doparos 7}(jl?v eanv Krische's fir] rb crbv flip Ofifia bvvaaBai eirl 

argument (Forsch. 220) to prove noWa ardbia QiKvelaBai, rbv oh 

that this language is spurious, rov Beov b<pBa\ixbv dbvvarov elvai 

although on his own showing it dfxa irdura bpav /JL-qdh, ri)v a\]v 

was known to Phsedrus, Cicero, fxev tyvxw Kal -rrepl rcav evBdSe koX 

and the writer of the treatise on irepl rccu ev Alyvirrcp koX ^iKe\ia 

the world, appears inconclusive. hvvaaBai (ppoyri(er>, ry\v 8e rod 

1 Mem. i. 4, 8 : av be aahrbv Beov <pp6vf\aiv p.)} Ikov^v elvai d^a. 

(ppovifxcv n ooKeis *X €IV > aWoQi ivavncv e7r Lfj.ehe7aBat. 

8e ovbafxov ovolv otei (ppovifxov 

L 



146 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
VIII. 



(c) The 
fore- 
thought 
of God. 



(d) His 
'pure 
maxims 
for the 
worship of 
God. 



over the whole world. As the soul is present in all 
parts of its body, so Grod is in the Universe. And if 
the soul, notwithstanding the limitations by which it 
is confined, can perceive what is distant, and have 
thoughts of the most varied kinds, surely the know- 
ledge and care of Grod must be able to embrace the 
whole universe at once. 1 

The providential care of Grod had been already 
assumed 2 as a matter of belief, in arguing for His 
existence from the relation of means to ends. It 
appeared to be most readily explained by considering 
the analogous case of the care which the human soul 
exercises over the body. Socrates thought to discern 
in oracles a special proof of the divine care : 3 by 
them the most important things, which could not 
otherwise be known, were revealed by Grod to man. 
He, therefore, considered it equally foolish to despise 
oracles, or to consult them in cases capable of being 
solved by our own reflection. 4 It followed, as a 
matter of course, that prayer, sacrifice, and obe- 
dience 5 formed part of the worship of Grod. 

As to the form and manner of worship, he desired 
every one to follow the custom of his nation, but at 
the same time he laid down those purer maxims 
which corresponded to his own idea of God. He 



1 Compare the words in Mem. 
i. 4, 18; If you apply to the Gods 
for prophecy, yv&vr) to Qeiov on 

TOCTOVTOV KOLL TOIOVTOV iCTlV, W(T0' 

afxa irduTa bpav kcl\ irdvra aiwveiv 
Ka\ irauraxov Trap€7j/ai, nal a/jLa 
TrdvTcav iiri[jLe\€L(r6ai ■ and the 
words in iv. 3, 12 : on 5e ye 



a\rj6rj \eyco . . . yvdoo-p, av fir] 
ava/uLevys, ecos hi/ ras fj.op(pas twv 
Qzwv tdys' also i. 1, 19. 

2 Mem. iv. 3; i. 4, 6 and 11. 

3 Ibid. iv. 3, 12; i. 4, 14. 

4 Ibid. i. 1, 6. 

5 Compare Mem. iv. 3, 14 ; ii. 
2, 14. 



WORSHIP OF GOD. 147 

advised men not to pray for special, and least of all Chap. 
for external goods, but only to ask for what is gene- 



rally good : for who but Grod knows what is advan- 
tageous for man, or knows it so fully? And, with 
regard to sacrifices, he declared that the greatness 
of the sacrifice is of no consequence compared with 
the spirit of him who sacrifices, and that the more 
pious a man is, the more acceptable will his offering 
be, so long as it is proportionate to his means. 1 
He abstained from theological speculations on prin- 
ciple, desiring to lead his fellow men to piety far 
more than to inquire into the nature of Grod. This 
will explain why he never felt the need of uniting 
the various parts of his religious belief into one 
harmonious conception, so as to form a perfectly 
consistent picture, and thus eliminate the contra- 
dictory elements, which it may easily be shown to 
contain. 2 * 

A certain divine element Socrates thought to C. Dignity 
discern within the soul of man, 3 a view which had °f man ' 
been already held by others before him. This, per- mortality. 
haps, led him to the belief in immediate revelations 
of Grod to the human soul, such as he thought that 
he himself enjoyed. As a theory, this must have 



1 Mem. i. 3, 2 ; iv. 3, 17. one God. This assumption would 

2 We have all the less reason belie not only the definite and 
for supposing with Denis (Histoire repeated assertions of Xenophon, 
des Theories et des Idees morales but also Socrates' unflinching love 
dans l'Antiquite, Paris et Strasb. of truth. 

1856, i. 79), that Socrates, like 3 Mem. iv. 3, 14: a\\a fity 

Antisthenes, spared polytheism Kal audpanrov ye tyvxh, eiVep tl 

from regard to the needs of the Kal aAAo rwv dpdpwiriywy, iuv 

masses, whilst he believed in only deiov ^ere^e*. 

L 2 



148 SOCRATES. 

Chap. been welcome to a philosopher who devoted his at- 
VIII 
L_ tention closely to the moral and spiritual nature of 

man, but it does not appear that Socrates ever at- 
tempted to explain it philosophically. Just as little 
did he give a scientific proof of the immortality of 
the soul, although as a belief he was disposed to 
accept it, partly in consequence of his high opinion 
of the dignity of man, and partly, too, on the ground 
of expediency. 1 At the same time, he expressed 
himself with the greatest doubt and caution on the 
subject in Plato's Apology, 2 on an occasion when the 
withholding of a conviction would least have been 
expected. 3 The expressions, however, of the dying 
Cyrus in Xenophon, 4 agree so well with the mind of 
Socrates, that we are fain to suppose that he con- 
sidered the existence of the soul after death to be 
probable, although he did not pretend to any certain 
knowledge on the point. The future life of the 
soul was accepted by him as an article of faith, the 
scientific grounds of which belonged to those pro- 
blems which surpass the powers of the human mind. 5 

1 Compare Hermann in Mar- the soul's dying with the body is 
burger Lectionskatalog, 1835-6, left an open question, but in 
Plat. 684. either case death is stated to be 

2 40, C. ; after his condem- the end of all evils. 

nation. 5 The above description of the 

3 Death is either an eternal philosophy of Socrates . rests on 
sleep, or a transition to a new the exclusive authority of Xeno- 
life, but in neither case is it an phon, Plato and Aristotle. What 
evil. is stated by later writers is in 

4 Cyrop. viiL 7, 19. Several a great measure drawn from these 
reasons are first adduced in fa- sources, and whenever it goes be- 
vour of immortality, bub they yond them, there is no guarantee 
need to be greatly strengthened for its accuracy. It is, however, 
to be anything like rigid proofs, possible that some genuine utter- 
In conclusion, the possibility of ances may have been preserved in 



IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 



149 



the writings of iEschines and 
others, which are omitted by our 
authorities. Such, for instance, are 
the statements of Cleanthes quoted 
by Clement (Stroma, ii. 417, D.), 
and repeated by Cicero (Off. iii. 
3, 11), that Socrates taught the 
identity of justice and happiness, 
and pronounced a curse on the 
man who first made a distinction 
between them : the statements in 
Cic. Off. ii. 12, 43* (taken from 
Xen. Mem. ii. 6, 39; conf. Cyrop. 
i. 6, 22) ; in Seneca, Epist. 28, 2 ; 
104, 7 (travelling is of no good 
to fools); 71, 16 (truth and virtue 
are identical) ; in Plut. Ed. Pu. 
c. 7, on education (the passage 
in c. 9, is an inaccurate reference 
to Plato, Gorg. 470, D.) ; in Ders. 
Cons, ad Apoll. c. 9, that if all 
sufferings had to be equally di- 
vided, every one would gladly 
preserve his own ; in Ders. Conj. 
Prsec. c. 25, on the moral use of the 
looking glass ; in Ders. Ser. Num. 
Vind. c. 5, deprecating anger; 
in Demet. Byz. quoted by Diog. 
ii. 21, (G-ell. N. A. xiv. 6, 5), that 
philosophy ought to be confined 

tO O, Tl TOL 4v fJL€ydpOl(Tl, KOLKOV T 

ayaQdv re rervKrat ; in Diog. ii. 



30, blaming the sophistry of Chap. 
Euclid; in Diog. ii. 31 (un- VIII. 

doubtedly from a writing of a 

Cynic or Stoic) that intelligence 
is the only good, ignorance the 
only evil, and that riches and 
noble birth do more harm than 
good ; in Diog. ii. 32, that to 
marry or to abstain from marriage 
is equally bad ; in Grell. xix. 
2, 7, that most men live to eat, 
whilst he eats to live ; in Stob. 
Ekl. i. 54, giving a definition of 
God; Ibid. ii. 356, that self- 
restraint is the best form of 
government ; in Teles, apud Stob. 
Eloril. 40, 8, blaming the Athen- 
ians for banishing their best, 
and honouring their worst men. 
Stobseus in his Florilegium men- 
tions a large number purporting 
to come from Socrates, but most 
of them are colourless, or run to 
epigrammatic points, which are a 
poor substitute for what is truly 
Socratic : and altogether their 
number makes them very sus- 
pected. Probably they were taken 
from a collection of proverbs 
which some later writer published 
under the name of Socratic pro- 
verbs. 



1 ^0 SOCRATES. 



CHAPTER IX. 

RETROSPECT. XENOPHON AND PLATO. SOCRATES 
AND THE SOPHISTS. 

Chap. If from the point now reached we return to our 

TV 

• former enquiry, and ask to which of his biographers 
A. Truth- we must look for a historically accurate account of 

fulness of 

Xenophon' s Socrates and his teaching, we shall be obliged to 
descrip- admit, that not one of them affords us such a 

tion. 

guarantee for the accuracy of his description, as any 

original writings or literal reports of the utterances 
of the great teacher. But so much is evident, that 
the personal character of Socrates, as pourtrayed by 
both Xenophon or Plato, is in all essential points, 
one and the same. Their descriptions mutually 
supplement each other on a few points, and con- 
tradict each other in none. The supplementary 
portions may, therefore, be referred to a common 
(a) Xeno- picture, which was before the eyes of both. It will 
phortsview also be found that the philosophy of Socrates as 

in har- L . 

onony with given by Plato and Aristotle is not different from 

Plat o and ** as gi yen by Xenophon, provided those parts are 

Aristotle, alone considered in the writings of Plato which 

undoubtedly belong to Socrates, and in Xenophon 

a distinction is made between the underlying thought 



ACCURACY OF XENOPHON S DESCRIPTION. 151 

and the commonplace language in which it is Chap. 
expressed. In Xenophon, Socrates may be heard __H__ 
expressing the opinion that true knowledge is the 
highest object, and that this knowledge consists 
in a knowledge of conceptions only. In Xenophon 
may be observed all the characteristics of that 
method by which Socrates strove to produce know- 
ledge. By Xenophon virtue is reduced to know- 
ledge, and this position is supported by the same 
arguments, and is made to lead to the same results, 
as in Aristotle and Plato. In short, all the leading 
features of the philosophy of Socrates are preserved 
by Xenophon, granting at the same time that he was 
not fully aware of the deeper meaning of many a 
saying, and therefore failed to reproduce it as 
vividly as it deserved. Here and there, too, a 
common-place expression occurs in the writings of 
Xenophon instead of a philosophical one. For in- 
stance, instead of saying, ' All virtue is knowledge,' 
he substitutes with less accuracy, 'All virtue is 
wisdom.' If, again, the defects of the Socratic 
philosophy, the popular and prosaic way in which 
subjects are treated, the want of system, the utilita- 
rian basis of moral teaching, appear more pro- 
minently in Xenophon than in Plato and Aristotle, 
this need not surprise us, when we consider the brevity 
with which Aristotle speaks of Socrates, and the 
extent to which Plato developes both the substance 
and the form of the Socratic teaching. On the other 
hand, Xenophon's description is confirmed partly by 
individual admissions of Plato, and partly by its 



152 SOCRATES. 



Chap. inward truth and conformity to that picture which 

;___ we must make for ourselves of the first appearance 

of the new principle in Socrates. All that can be 
conceded to the detractors of Xenophon is, that he 
did not understand the philosophical importance of 
his teacher, and therefore it falls into the background 
in his picture. To supplement this deficiency we 
must be content to draw from Plato and Aristotle. 
It cannot, however, be allowed that Xenophon 
has in any respect given a false account of Socrates, 
or that it is impossible to gather from his description 
the true character and importance of the doctrine of 
his master. 
(b) Schlei- It may be said that this estimate of Xenophon is 
Objection 8 rei>u ted by the place which Socrates is known to have 
answered, held in history. ' If,' as Schleiermacher observes, 1 
6 Socrates had done nothing but discourse in a purer 
and loftier strain on subjects w T ithin those limits 
which are never passed in the Memorabilia of Xeno- 
phon, it would be impossible to understand how the 
charm of his speech could have emptied the market- 
place and the workshops, the public walks and the 
schools, for so many years ; how he could have satis- 
fied so long Alcibiades and Critias, Plato and Euclid ; 
how he could have played the part assigned to him 
in the dialogues of Plato ; in short, how he could 
have been the founder and type of the philosophy 
of Athens.' But it is Plato himself w 7 ho bears a 
valuable testimony to the accuracy of Xenophon's 
description. To what does Alcibiades refer, when 

1 Werke, iii. 2, 295. 



XEXOPHOX VINDICATED. 153 

anxious to bring out the higher fascination con- Chap. 

IX 
cealed in the strange language of Socrates^ and under ___1_^__ 

his Silenus-like appearance ? What is implied in his 
admirable description of the impression produced on 
him by Socrates ? l What in his view had been the 
cause of the revolutionary change in the inner life 
of Greece ? What but the moral considerations which 
form the subject of the Socratic dialogues in Xeno- 
phon ! These and these only are dwelt upon by So- 
crates in his Apology, 2 in speaking of his higher call- 
ing, and his services to his country : it is his business 
to exhort others to virtue : and if he considers his con- 
versation attractive because of its critical attempts, 3 
he is only referring to a process of which many ex- 
amples are to be found in Xenophon, that of con- 

1 Symp. 215. E.: oravydpaKovco l^et^ov av dxOoi/u.r}v, ware ovk ex«, 

[2o> k par ovs~\ rroAv /not. fxdAAov r) o ri xpTKTOpcu. rovrop rop dvQpoonop. 

rcov Kopvfiavnoovrcov 7] re KapBia lb. 221, D. : Kal ol Aoyoi avrov 

•nr\Ba kcu Bdnpva inxeLTcu. virb rcov djjLOioTCLToi elo~L tois 'Xet.Arivo'is TOtS" 

Aoycov rcov rovrov. opco Be Kal Bioiyojj.evois . . . Bioiyofievovs Be 

&AAovs Tra/jLTToWovs to aura rvd- iBcov aii ns Kal euros avrcov yiyvo- 

o~xovras : this was not the case fievos irpcorov fxev vovv exovras 

with other speakers, ovBe redopv- evBov jjlovvovs €vpr)creL rcov Aoycov, 

firjro fiov r) \pvxv ov& r\yavaKrei eireira deiordrovs Kal TrAeTcTT 5 

cos dvB pair oBcoB cos BiaKeijj.ei'ov. aAA 5 dyaAfxar dperr)s ev avro7s exovras, 

virb rourovl rod Mapava iroAAaKis Kal eirl irAelarov reivovras, fiaAAov 

Br} ovrco Bieredrjv, were jjlol Bo£ai Be eirl irdv oo~ov irpoo"f}Kei o~Koire?v 

fir) fiicorbv eivai exovneos *X°° • ■ • rep (xeAAovn KaAop Kayadcp eo~eo-6ai. 

dvayKa(ei yap fxe o/jLoAoyeiv on 2 29, B. ; 38, A. ; 41, E. 

iroAAov evBer)s &v avrbs en ifiav- 3 Apol. 23, C. : irpbs Be rovroLS 

rov fxev afxeAco rd §' 'Adrjvaicov oi veoi /xol eiraKoAovdovvres oTs 

irpdrrco . . . ireirovda Be Trpbs rod- fxaAicra &xoAr) eo~nv oi rcov 

rov fxovov dvQpcoircov, a ovk &v ns irAovaLcordrcov avrS/xaroL x^ L povo~iv 

otoiro ev ifjiol evelvai, rb alo~xv- aKovovres e^era^Ofievoov rcov av- 

veo~Qai bvnvovv .... Bpairerevco Opcoircov, Kal avrol iroAAaKis ifie 

oZv avrbv Kal (pevyco, Kal orav fxi/jLOvvrai €ira einx^ipovcriv aAAovs 

?Bco aio~xvvop.ai rd w/xoAoyrj/xeva J e^erd^eiv. An example of such 

Kal iroAAaKis fxev riBecos av tBoi/uu an enquiry is to be found in the 

avrbv /xr) ovra ev dvQpcoirois ' €i S' conversation of Alcibiades with 

av rovro yevoiro, ev olBa on iroAv Pericles, Mem. i. 1 ? 40. 



154 SOCRATES. 

Chap. vincing people of ignorance in the affairs of their 
calling. 



B. Import- rpj ie e £f ec £ p roc i uce( i by the discourses of Socrates 

ance of the r J 

Socratic does not surprise us, even if they were only of the 



f™tZ 9 age kind described b y Xenophon. It is true, that as he 
in which reproduces them, they may often appear trivial and 

,' '' tedious ; and with reference to the result attained 

(a) Great 

importance in any particular case, they may really be so. The 

tis method ^ or S er °^ armour is required to adapt the shield to 
the person of him who is to wear it : l the care of 
the body is said to be attended with many advan- 
tages : 2 friends, it is argued, must be secured by 
kindness and attention : 3 these, and such like maxims, 
which are often widely expanded by Socrates, con- 
tain for us nothing new, nor can they have appeared 
as novelties to his cotemporaries. The new and im- 
portant element in these enquiries does not consist 
in their meaning, but in their method, in the fact 
that what was formerly presupposed without enquiry, 
and unconsciously admitted, was now consciously re- 
cognised by thought. Any too minute or pedantic 
application of this method on the part of Socrates 
would not probably have given the same offence to 
his cotemporaries as it would to us, who are not 
learning for the first time the art of thinking freely, 
or of being independent of the authority of lifeless 
customs. 4 Did not the enquiries of the Sophists 
contain much less, and did not the Sophists, not- 

1 Mem. iii. 10, 9. 4 Comp. Hegel, Gresch. d.Phil. 

2 Ibid. iii. 12, 4. ii. 59. 

3 Ibid. ii. 10, 6, 9. 



VALUE OF HIS METHOD: ITS OBJECT. 155 

withstanding their being so much engaged with Chap. 
empty cavils, impart an almost electrical shock ' 



to their age, simply and solely because a new 
power, and a new method of reflection — travesty 
of thought as it was — had dawned upon the Greek 
mind? It would, therefore, be possible to under- 
stand in some degree the immediate influence of 
Socrates on his cotemporaries, even if he had con- 
fined himself to those unimportant topics, upon which 
so many of his dialogues exclusively turn. 

But these unimportant topics hold a subordinate (b) His 
position even according to Xenophon. The leading j^ c ^ ° ' 
object of Socrates, was to institute a real enquiry deeply ^ in- 
into the necessity of knowledge, into the nature of one% 
morality, into the conceptions of the various virtues, 
and to gain a thorough insight into man's moral and 
intellectual nature. This object he pursued by giving 
practical directions for the formation of conceptions, 
and by asking critical questions which obliged those 
who replied, to consider what their notions implied, 
and at what their actions aimed. Can we wonder 
that such enquiries should have produced a deep 
impression on the cotemporaries of Socrates, and 
an entire change in the Greek mode of thought, 
such as the testimony of history records ? or, that a 
keener thinker anticipated behind those apparently 
commonplace and unimportant expressions of So- 
crates, which his biographers unanimously record, the 
sight of a newly discovered world ? It was reserved 
for Plato and Aristotle to conquer this new world, 
but Socrates was the first to discover it, and to open 



156 SOCRATES. 

Chap. the way to it for others. Fully as we may recognise 
___jj__ the shortcomings of his endeavours, and the limits 



which his individual nature imposed on him, we 
shall still find enough to make us honour him as the 
originator of a philosophy of conceptions, as a re- 
former of method, and as the first founder of a 
scientific doctrine of morals. 
C. Its vela- To understand the relation of Socrates to the 
teaching Sophists, we must consider the one-sided and un- 
ofthe satisfactory parts of his method as well as its 

more perfect and salient features. During the 
last thirty years, these points have been examined 
with the most opposite results. Before that time 
all critics seemed to agree in accepting Plato's view, 
and making Socrates the severe opponent of the 
Sophists. Hegel first gave currency to the con- 
trary opinion, assigning to both Socrates and the 
Sophists the same common ground — an introspec- 
tive and personal tendency — and G-rote 1 has more 
recently contradicted the traditional notion of 
the antithesis between Socrates and the Sophists, 
though in a somewhat different way. If by a 
Sophist, he argues, taking the word in its historical 
meaning, we are to understand a public teacher, 
educating youth for practical life, Socrates is him- 
self the true type of a Sophist. If on the other 
hand the term is used to characterise the tone 
and teaching of a school, it is an abuse to call this 
- Sophistry, or to group together under one class all 

1 Hist, of Greece, viii. 479. 



HIS RELATION TO THE SOPHISTS. 157 

the different individuals who appeared as Sophists. Chap. 
The Sophists were not a sect or a school, but a ___^_1__ 
profession, men of the most varied views, for the 
most part extremely deserving and excellent persons, 
with whose views we have not the least right to be 
offended. Hegel and his followers attacked the or- 
dinary view of the relation of Socrates to the So- 
phists, because Socrates, in one respect, entirely 
agreed with the Sophists. Grote attacks it for the 
very opposite reason, because the most distinguished 
of the so-called Sophists agreed with Socrates. 

Our previous enquiries will have shown, that much 
may be said in favour of either view, but that 
neither is altogether correct. Grote is right in 
saying that Sophist means in the first place a wise 
man, and secondly, one who imparts instruction in 
practical matters. But this need not prevent us 
from giving to the word the wider meaning which 
subsequent use established, and taking it to designate 
the peculiarities of a certain class of men. These 
peculiarities are not altogether expresssed in the cha- 
racter of a public teacher of virtue — a point which 
Grrote keeps exclusively in view. Still there is a 
common type belonging to that whole group of men 
whom we call Sophists, which may be recognised 
amid individual divergencies, if they only are referred 
to their source in the mind. The doubts of men 
such as Protagoras, Grorgias, and Euthydemus, the 
quibbling which characterised most, the display of 
words which was practised by all the Sophists, the 
show of technicalities, the pretensions to knowledge 



158 SOCRATES. 



IX, 



Chap. accompanied by an avowed indifference to the ends 
which knowledge should be made to serve ; ! all these 
peculiarities have a tendency in the same direc- 
tion — to a partial culture of the understanding, to 
an indifference to real truth, and an aiming only 
at personal skill. Assuming then that the moral 
teaching of the older Sophists did not differ from 
the opinions and practices current in Greece at the 
time, the questionable principles of their successors 
were a natural expansion of the germ which their 
doubts, their subtleties, and their parade of words 
had planted. 

From this it will appear that it is not consistent 
with history to contrast Socrates with the Sophists, in 
the same sense that sound and unsound philosophy 

1 Compare the promise of art ; but it is one thing to teach 

Protagoras to make the weaker an art, which may be abused, 

side appear the stronger. Grote, another thing to teach the art how 

viii. 499, thinks to avoid the to abuse it. An apothecary could 

offensive!! ess of this principle by more easily commit an act of 

remarking, that the same prin- poisoning, or a locksmith of 

ciple has been objected to in housebreaking, than other people; 

Isocrates and others, and even in but both would be justly censured 

Socrates. But this is changing if they professed to teach their 

the ground. It was not at- pupils the art of poisoning or 

tributed to Protagoras falsely, of housebreaking respectively, 

but he avowed it himself, and ex- Grote also appeals to the fact 

plained it by saying that a teach- that a lawyer is not blamed for 

er of eloquence could not meddle helping the wrong side as well 

with the ends for which his art as the right side with his elo- 

was employed, but must help to- quence. But this is not altogether 

wards the attainment even of true. A lawyer is bound to say 

wicked ends. Compare with this the best that can be said for a 

the opposite view taken of Ehe- criminal, but if he were to make 

toric by Plato in the Gorgias and it his profession always to help 

Phsedrus, and by Aristotle, Bhet. the wrong side, he would be 

i. 1. Now it is clear that a rightly called a perverter of 

teacher of rhetoric cannot be justice, 
answerable for the abuse of his 



HIS RELATION TO THE SOPHISTS. 159 

are contrasted, or good and evil. In Xenophon, So- Chap. 
crates does not appear in such marked contradistine- ' 

tion to the Sophists as in Plato, 1 and in Plato the 
antithesis is not nearly so great as it is made by- 
several modern writers. 2 But at the same time So- 
crates cannot be brought into so close a connection 
with the Sophists as Grote supposes ; Hegel's view, 
that he was substantially like them, has, however, 
provoked a greater opposition than it deserves. Both 
Hegel and Grote do not deny that the sophistical 
notion of personal truth differed widely from that 
of Socrates, and neither they nor their opponents 
can deny that the Sophists were the first to draw 
philosophy away from nature to morals and the 
study of the mind — in short, to transplant thought 
to a relative soil. The whole question, therefore, 
really resolves itself into this : — Must we say that 
Socrates and the Sophists resembled one another, 
both taking personal truth as their ground, but 
differing in their views of personal truth ? or that 
they differed, the nature of their treatment being a 
different one, whilst they agreed in making it rela- 
tive ? Or to put the question in another shape : — 
There being points both of agreement and difference 
between them, which of the two is the more import- 
ant and decisive characteristic ? The reply which * 
we must here give, is that the difference far ex- 
ceeded the resemblance. The Sophists failed in the 

1 Compare Xen. Mem. iv. 4. D.; 164, D. ; 165, E. ; Eep. i. 354, 

2 Proofs in Protagoras and A. ; vi. 498, C. 
Gorgias, Thseetet. 151, D,; 162, 



160 SOCRATES. 

Chap. very thing which is the root of the philosophical 
' greatness of Socrates — the striving after a real and 
universally valid knowledge, and after a method by 
which it could be attained. They could call in 
question all that had been previously believed, but 
they could not mark out a new and more certain 
road to truth. They may be like Socrates in neglect- 
ing the study of nature, and making the culture 
which applies to practical life their object, but this 
culture has with them a different character, and a 
different meaning to what it bears with Socrates. 
The ultimate end of their instruction is a superficial 
skill, subservient to individual caprice, all independ- 
ent truth having been long since abandoned by 
them. With Socrates, on the contrary, the acquisi- 
tion of truth is the ultimate end, in which alone is to 
be found a rule for the guidance of the individual. 
Hence in its further expansion the Sophistic teach- 
ing could not fail to separate from the scientific 
culture which preceeded it, and indeed from every 
kind of science. If it had succeeded in gaining 
undisputed sway, it would have sounded the death 
note of Greek philosophy. Socrates alone bore in 
himself the germ of a new life for thought. So- 
crates alone became by his philosophical principles 
the reformer of philosophy. 1 

1 Hermann even allows this in from the wisdom of Socrates in 
saying (Plato, i. 232) that the their want of a fruit-bearing 
importance of Socrates for the germ. But this admission is hard- 
history of philosophy must be ly consistent with making the 
gathered far more from his per- second period of philosophy com- 
sonal opposition to the Sophists mence with the Sophists instead 
than from his general resemblance of with Socrates. 
to them. The Sophists differed 



HIS TRAGIC END. 161 



CHAPTEE X. 

THE DEATH OF SOCRATES. 

We are now for the first time in a position to pass c HAP§ 
judgment on the circumstances attending the tragic x - 
end of Socrates. The historical events which led to his a. Details 
death are well known. A whole lifetime had been °f th f. ac ~ 

cusatwn, 
spent at Athens, during w 7 hich Socrates had been his defence, 



attacked frequently, 1 although never judicially, 

when in the year 399 B.C., 3 an accusation was pre- (a) Theac- 



sentence, 
and death. 



ferred against him, charging him with unfaithfulness 
to the religion of his country, with introducing new 
Gods, and with exercising a harmful influence on 
youth. 4 The chief accuser, 5 was Meletus, 6 who was 

1 Compare besides the Clouds Max. Tyr. ix. 2, proves nothing 
of Aristophanes, Xen. Mem. i. 2, against this, as Hermann has 
31 ; iv. 4, 3; Plato, Apol. 32, C; shown, De Socratis Accusatoribus. 
22, E. 6 For the way in which this 

2 Plato, Apol. 17, D. name is written, instead of MeAi- 

3 See p. 49. ros, as was formerly the custom, 

4 The accusation, according to see Hermann, It appears by a 
Favorinus in Diog. ii. 40, Xen. comparison of various passages, 
Mem. (Begin), was: rdfie iypd\paro that the accuser of Socrates is 
kcl\ duToofjLocraTo MeK-qros MeA^Tou neither the politician, as Forch- 
ITiT0€i;s 'SooKpareL ^cacppovtaKov hammer makes him to be, nor 
J AAo;7refa}0ev • aBiKeiHooKp arrjs, ovs the opponent of Andocides, with 
fxev 7] ttoXls vo/jii^ei deovs ov vofxi- whom others have identified him, 
fav, eVepa 5e kolivol SaifMovia nor again the poet mentioned by 
etVrjyTJ/xevos • aSi/ce? 8e kclI robs Aristophanes (Frogs, 1302), but 
veovs SiacpQsipiav rlurjua Qdvaros. some younger man, perhaps the 

5 See Plato, Apol. 19, B. ; 24, son of the poet, 
B. ; 28, A.; Euthyphro, 2, B. 

M 



cusation. 



162 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
X. 



assisted by Anytus, one of the leaders and re-intro- 
ducers of the Athenian democracy, 1 and by Lyco, 2 
who is otherwise unknown. The friends of Socrates 
appear at first to have considered his condemnation 
to be an impossibility, 3 but he was under no delusion 
himself about the danger which threatened him. 4 
Concern or anxiety, however, for his own defence was 
contrary to the nature of Socrates. 5 Not only did he 



1 Further particulars about 
him are given by Forchhammer, 
79 ; and Hermann, 9. They are 
gathered from Plato, Meno, 90, 
A. ; Schol. in Plat. Apol. 18, B. ; 
Lysias adv. Dand. 8 : adv. Agorat. 
78 ; Isoc. adv. Callim. 23 ; Plut. 
Herod, malign. 26, 6 ; Coriol. c. 
14; Schol. in iEschin. adv. Tim. 
§ 87; Diod. xiii. 64. He is 
mentioned by Xenoph. Hell. ii. 
3, 42, 44, as well as by Isocrates, 
as a leader of the Democratic 
party, together with Thrasybulus. 

2 For the various conjectures 
about him consult Hermann, p. 
12. Besides the above-named 
persons a certain Polyeuctus, 
according to Favorinus inDiog. ii. 
38, took part in assisting the 
accuser. Probably "Amtos ought 
to be written in this passage 
instead of TloXvevros, and in the 
following passage UoKvevros in- 
stead of "Aj/utos, UoXvevTos being 
here probably a transcriber's 
mistake for Uo\vKpdr7)s. But 
the words as they stand must be 
incorrect. The celebrated orator 
Polycrates is said to have com- 
posed the speech of Anytus, and 
it is proved beyond doubt by 
Isocr. Bus. 4 ; JElian, V. H. xi. 
10, that he drew up an indict- 
ment of Socrates. But it is also 
clear from Favorinus, that his 
indictment was not used at the 



trial. Indeed it would appear 
from Favorinus that it was not 
written till some time after the 
death of Socrates. 

3 This is proved bytheEuthy- 
phro, if this dialogue, as Stein- 
hart supposes, was hastily penned 
after the beginning of the trial, 
its object being to prove that 
Socrates, though accused of im- 
piety, had a deeper piety and a 
keener appreciation of the nature 
of piety, than one who had 
incurred ridicule by his extra- 
vagances, but had nevertheless 
brought himself into the odour of 
sanctity. The treatment of the 
question is too light and satirical 
for the dialogue to belong to a 
time when the full seriousness of 
his position was felt. 

4 Comp. Xen. Mem. iv. 8, 6 ; 
Plato, Apol. 19, A.; 24, A.; 28, 
A. ; 36, A. 

5 In Xen. Mem. iv. 8. 5, So- 
crates says that when he wished 
to think about his defence, his 
daimonium opposed him ; and 
according to Diog. ii. 40 ; Cic. de 
Orat. i. 54; Quintil. Inst. ii. 15, 
30; xi. 1, 11; Val. Max. vi. 4, 2 ; 
Stob. Floril. 7, 56, he declined a 
speech which Lysias offered him. 
It is asserted by Plato, Apol. 17. 
B., that he spoke without pre- 
paration. 



THE ACCUSATION. 



163 



consider it an unworthy and wrongful act to attempt 
anything except by simple truth, but more than that, 
it was impossible for him to forget his own pecu- 
liarities, and to make use of an artificial eloquence 
which went against his nature. But with the most 
perfect confidence, he could leave the issue in the 
hands of Grod, convinced that all would be for the 
best — a conviction which grew stronger and stronger, 
the more he became familiar with the idea that death 
would bring him more good than life, and that an 
unjust condemnation would only save him from the 
painful weaknesses of age, and leave his fair name 
unsullied. 1 



Chap. 
X. 



1 Of the motives of Socrates the 
above seems to follow with cer- 
taintv from passages in Plato, 
ApoL 17, B.; 19, A.; 29, A. ; 30, 
C. ; 34, C, andXen. Mem. iv. 8, 
4-10. Cousin and Grote, however, 
give him credit for a great deal 
more than can be reconciled with 
the testimony of history, or with 
the rest of his character. Consin 
(CEuvres de Platon, i. 58), seems 
to think that Socrates was aware 
that he must perish in the conflict 
with his age, but he forgets that 
the explanation given in Plato's 
Apology, 29, B., is only a con- 
ditional one, and that the passage 
in that treatise 37, C, was written 
after the judicial sentence. Even 
Grote appears to go too far in 
asserting in his excellent de- 
scription of the trial (viii. 654), 
that Socrates was hardly anxious 
to be acquitted, and that his 
speech was addressed far more to 
posterity than to his judges. 
History only warrants the belief, 
that with magnanimous devotion 



to his cause Socrates was 
indifferent to the result of his 
words, and endeavoured from the 
first to reconcile himself to a 
probably unfavourable result. It 
does not, however, follow, that he 
was anxious to be condemned; 
nor have we reason to suppose so, 
since he could have wished for 
nothing which he considered to 
be wrong, and his modesty kept 
him uncertain as to what was the 
best for himself. See Apol. 19, 
A.; 29, A.; 30, D. ; 35, D. We 
cannot therefore believe with 
Grrotethat Socrates had well con- 
sidered his line of defence, and 
chosen it with a full consciousness 
of the result ; that in his conduct 
before the court he was actuated 
only by a wish to display his 
personal greatness and the great- 
ness of his mission in the most 
emphatic manner; and that by de- 
parting this life when at the 
summit of his greatness, he de- 
sired to give a lesson to youth 
the most impressive which it was 



164 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
X. 

(b) So- 
crates' 
defence of 
himself. 



Such was the mental attitude, in which he pro- 
nounced his defence. 1 The language is not that of 
a criminal, who only wishes to save his life, but that 
of an impartial arbiter, who would dispel erroneous 



in the power of man to give. To 
presuppose such calculation on 
the part of Socrates is not only 
contradictory to the statement 
that he uttered his defence with- 
out preparation, but it appears 
to be opposed to the picture 
which we are accustomed to see 
of his character. In that picture, 
as far as it goes, his conduct does 
not appear to be a work of cal- 
culation, but a thing of immediate 
conviction, a consequence of that 
uprightness of character which 
would not allow him to go one 
step beyond his principles. His 
principles, however, did not allow 
him to consider results, since he 
could not know what result would 
be beneficial to him. It was his 
business to speak the truth alone, 
and to despise anything like cor- 
rupting the judges by eloquence. 
This may appear a narrow-minded 
view, but no other course of 
conduct would so well have 
corresponded with the bearing 
and character of Socrates ; and 
herein consists his greatness, that 
he chose what was in harmony 
with himself in the face of ex- 
treme danger, with classic com- 
posure and unruffled brow. 

1 We possess two accounts of 
the speech of Socrates before his 
judges, a shorter one in Xeno- 
phon and a longer one in Plato's 
Apology. Xenophon's Apology 
is certainly spurious, and with it 
any value attaching to the testi- 
mony of Hermogenes, to whom 
the compiler professes to be in- 



debted for his information, is lost. 
In reference to Plato's, the cur- 
rent view seems well established, 
that this Apology is not a mere 
creation of his own, but that in 
all substantial points, it faith- 
fully records what Socrates said, 
and the attempt of Georgii to 
prove the contrary will not stand. 
Georgii complains that in the 
Socrates of Plato that yue-yaA?]- 
yopia is wanting, which Xeno- 
phon commends in him — a judg- 
ment with which few will agree, 
and which the writer of the 
Apology attributed to Xenophon 
did not follow. He also considers 
the sophism with which the charge 
of atheism was met, improbable in 
the mouth of Socrates, though it 
may just as likely have come 
from him as from one of his 
disciples. He doubts whether 
Socrates could have maintained a 
composure so perfect ; although 
all that we know of Socrates 
shows unruffled calm as a main 
trait in his character. He sees 
in the prominent features of that 
character a diplomatic calcula- 
tion, which others will look for 
in vain. He considers it in- 
credible that Socrates should have 
begun with a studied quotation 
from the Clouds of Aristophanes, 
aiming at nothing else but the 
refutation of prejudices, which 
lasted undeniably, (according to 
the testimony of Xenophon, Mem. 
i. 1, 11 ; (Ec.l2,3;Synp. 6, 6),till 
after his own death, and perhaps 
contributed much to his con- 



HIS DEFENCE. 



165 



views by a simple statement of the truth, or of a 
patriot raising a warning voice against wrong-doing 
and overhastiness. The accuser has to be convinced of 
his ignorance ; the accusation to be refuted by criti- 
cism. But at the same time dignity and prin- 
ciple are never for one moment forgotten. No 
entreaties are addressed to the judges. Their sen- 
tence is not feared, whatever it may be. He stands 
in the service of Grod, and is determined to keep his 
post in the face of every danger. No commands can 
make him faithless to his higher calling, or prevent 
him from obeying Grod rather than the Athenians. 



Chap. 
X. 



damnation. He misses in Plato 
many things, which Socrates 
might have said in his defence, 
and did actually say according to 
the Apology of Xenophon. But 
to this no importance can be 
attached, and it is probable that 
in an unprepared speech Socrates 
omitted much, which might have 
told in his favour. Then again 
he can hardly be convinced that 
Socrates cross-questioned Miletus 
so searchingly as Plato describes ; 
but this passage agrees with the 
usual character of the discourse 
of Socrates, and the sophism by 
which Socrates proved that he 
did not corrupt youth is quite 
his own. That Socrates should 
have met the charge of atheism 
by quibbles, instead of appealing 
to the fact of his reverence for 
the G-ods of the state, he can only 
understand, by supposing it an 
expression of Plato's religious 
views : although Plato would 
have had no reason for sup- 
pressing the fact, supposing So- 
crates had really made such an 
appeal ; he even describes the 



devotion of his master to the Gods 
of his country, and is himself 
anxious to continue that service. 
The same may be said in reply 
to most of the reasoning of 
G-eorgii. On the contrary, the 
difference in style between the 
Apology and Plato's usual writ- 
ings, seems to prove that this 
Apology was not drawn up with 
his usual artistic freedom, and 
the notion of G-eorgii referring it 
to the same time as the Phsedo 
appears altogether inconceivable 
considering the great difference 
between the two in regard to 
their philosophical contents and 
their artistic form. It certainly 
was not Plato's intention to 
record literally the words of 
Socrates, and we maybe satisfied 
with comparing his Apology to 
the speeches in Thucydides, as 
Steinhart does, bearing in mind 
what Thucydides, i. 22, says of 
himself, — that he had kept as 
close as possible to the sense 
and substance of what was said 
— and applying it equally to 
Plato. 



166 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
X. 



0) His 

condemna- 
tion. 



The result of his speech was, what might have been 
expected. The majority of the judges were un- 
doubtedly disposed to pronounce him innocent, but 
the bearing which he displayed in court could not 
fail to offend the members of a popular tribunal, 
before which men of the highest distinction and emi- 
nence had quailed. 1 Accordingly many who would 
otherwise have given their votes in his favour, 
decided against him, and by only a very small ma- 
jority 2 he was condemned to death. 3 According to 



1 Let the attitude of Pericles 
be remembered on the occasion of 
the accusation of Aspasia, and that 
depicted by Plato in the Apology, 
34, C. Indeed it is a well- 
known fact, that it was a special 
hobby of the Athenian people, to 
sit in judgment, and that it 
watched with peculiar jealousy 
this attribute of its sovereignty. 

2 According to Plato, Apol. 36, 
A., he would have been acquitted 
if 3, or as another reading has it, 
if 30 of his judges had been of a 
different mind. But how can 
this be reconciled with the state- 
ment of Diog. ii. 41 : KarediKdaSr) 
diaKocricus by^o'fjKoura /j.ia irXeioai 
ip7]<pois 7<hv airo\vov(T(vp ? Either 
the text here must be corrupt, or 
a true statement of Diogenes 
must have been strangely per- 
verted. Which is really the case 
it is difficult to say. It is gene- 
rally believed that the whole 
number of judges who condemned 
him was 281. But since the 
Helisea always consisted of so 
many hundreds, most probably 
with the addition of one deciding 
voice (400, 500, 600 or 401, 501 
601), on this hypothesis no pro- 
portion of votes can be made out, 
which is compatible with Plato's 



assertion, whichever reading is 
adopted. We should have then 
to suppose with Bockh, that a 
number of the judges had ab- 
stained from voting, a course 
which may be possible. Out of 
600 Heliasts, 281 may have voted 
against and 275 or 276 for him. 
It is however possible, as Bockh 
suggests, that in Diogenes, 251 
may have originally stood instead 
of 281. In this case there might 
have been 251 against and 245 
or 246 for the accused, making 
together nearly 500 ; and some 
few, supposing the board to have 
been complete at first, may have 
absented themselves during the 
proceedings, or have refrained from 
voting. Or if the reading rpiaKov- 
ra, which has many of the best 
MSS. in its favour, is established 
in Plato, we may supposethat the 
original text in Diogenes was as 
follows : KartBLKaadr) SiaKOtfiais 
6yho{]KovT<z \pij(pois. £' irXeio(Ti rcov 
aiToXhova-ccv. We should then 
have 280 against 220, together 
500, and if 30 more had declared 
for the accused, he would have 
been acquitted, the votes being 
equal. 

3 This course of events is not 
only in itself probable, taking 



HIS SEXTEXCE AND DEATH. 167 

the Athenian mode of procedure, the next thing that Chap. 



had to be done, was to determine the nature of the 
penalty. With undaunted courage Socrates declared 
that if called upon to state what he had deserved, 
he must claim to be publicly entertained in the 
Prytaneum. He repeatedly assured the judges, that 
he could not on any account depart from his previous 
course of life. But at last, yielding to the en- 
treaties of his friends, he declared himself ready to 
pay a penalty of thirty minae, because this could be 
done without confessing himself to be guilty. 1 It 
may be readily understood, that to the majority of 
the judges, such conduct would appear in the light 
of incorrigible obstinacy and contempt for the ju- 
dicial office, and hence the penalty claimed by the 
accusers was awarded — a sentence of death. 2 

The sentence was received by Socrates with a com- (d) His 
posure corresponding to his previous conduct. He 
still continued to assert that he did not in any way 
repent of his previous life ; and frequently expressed 
it as his conviction, that for him death would be no 
misfortune. 3 The execution of the sentence beingf 

into account the character of the authority of Plato's Apology, in 

speech of Socrates and the nature opposition to which the less 

of the circumstances, but Xeno- accurate assertion of Xenophon's, 

phon (Mem. iv. 4, 4), distinctly that he rejected any pecuniary 

asserts that he would certainly composition, and that of Diog. 

have been acquitted, if he had in ii. 41, cannot be allowed to be 

any way condescended to the of any weight, 
usual attitude of deference to his 2 According to Diog. ii. 42, it 

judges. See also Plato, Apol. was carried by eighty more votes 

38, D. than his condemnation. 
1 The above is stated on the 3 Plato, Apol. 38, C. 



168 SOCRATES. 



X. 



Chap. delayed because of the state-embassy to Delos, 1 he 
continued in prison thirty days^ holding the ordinary 
intercourse with his friends, and maintaining during 
the whole period his usual cheerfulness of dispo- 
sition. 2 Flight from prison, for which his friends had 
made every preparation^ was rejected as a false and 
unworthy step. 3 His last day was spent in quiet 
intellectual conversation, and when the evening came, 
the draught of hemlock was drunk with a courage so 
undaunted, and a resignation so complete, that a feel- 
ing of wonder and admiration repressed the feeling 
of grief even in his nearest relatives. 4 It is said that 
among the Athenians, dislike for the disagreeable 
preacher of morals was soon succeeded by remorse, 
and that in consequence, his accusers were after- 
wards visited with severe penalties; 5 but these 

1 Mem. iy. 8.2; Plato, Phaedo, Suidas makes Meletus die "by 
58, A. stoning. Plut. de Livid, c. 6, 

2 Phaedo, 59, D. says that the slanderous aecu- 

3 According to Plato, Crito sers of Socrates became so hated 
urged him to flight. The Epi- at Athens, that the citizens would 
curean Idomeneus, who says not light their fires, or answer 
it was iEschines (Diog. ii. 60 ; their questions, or bathe in the 
iii. 36) is not a trustworthy same water with them, and that 
authority. at last they were driven in de- 

4 Compare the Phaedo. His spair to hang themselves. Diog. 
account appears to be true in the ii. 43, says that the Athenians 
main. See 5S, E. ; 116, A.; Xen. soon after, overcome with coni- 
Mem. iv. 8, 2. Whether the punction, condemned Meletus to 
statements in Xen. Apol. 28 ; death, banished the other ac- 
Diog. ii. 35 ; iElian, V. H. i. 16, erasers, and erected a brazen 
are historical, is a moot point, statue to Socrates, and that Any- 
Those in Stob. Floril. 5, 67, are tus was forbidden to set foot in 
certainly not. Heraclea, Themist. Or. xx. 239, 

5 Diodor. xiv. 37, says that says : The Athenians soon re- 

the people repented of having put pented of this deed; Meletus 

Socrates to death, and attacked was punished, Anytus fled, and 

his accusers, putting them to was stoned at Heraclea, where 

death without a judicial sentence, his grave may still be seen. 



CAUSES OF THE SENTENCE. 



169 



statements are not to be depended on, and appear 
on the whole very improbable. 1 

The circumstances which brought about the death 
of Socrates are among the clearest facts of history. 
There is nevertheless the greatest difference of opinion 
as to the causes which led to it and the justice of 
his condemnation. In former times it was quite 
naturally referred to accidental impulse and an 
outburst of popular feeling. But supposing Socrates 
to have been that insipid ideal of virtue, delineated 
by those who were lacking in a deeper insight into 
his position in history, it would seem impossible that 
he could have inflicted sufficient injury on any one 

faction. On the contrary, five 
years after the death of Socrates 
Xenophon thought it necessary to 
defend him against the attacks of 
his accusers, while iEschines ap- 
pealed to the sentence on Socrates 
without dreading the very obvious 
answer, that his accusers had met 
with their deserts. That Isocra- 
tes is referring to this occurrence 
rather than to any other {trepi 
avrid6(T. 19) is not established, 
nor need the passage contain a re- 
ference to any event in particular. 
And lastly, nothing can be made 
of the apocryphal story coming 
from some editor of Isocrates, 
to the effect that the Athenians, 
ashamed of having put Socrates 
to death, forbad any public men- 
tion of him, and that when Euri- 
pides (who died seven years before 
Socrates) alluded to him in the 
Palamedes, all the audience burst 
into tears. It is only lost labour 
to suggest that these scenes took 
place at some later time, when 
the play was performed. 



Chap. 
X. 

B. The 

cause of 
this sen- 
tence of 
condemna- 
tion. 

(a) It was 
not the 
work of 
the So- 
phists. 



Aug. De Civ. Dei, viii. 3, reports 
that one of the accusers was 
slain by the people and the other 
banished for life. 

1 This view, already expressed 
by Forchhammer and Grote, 
appears to be the correct one 
notwithstanding Hermann's argu- 
ments to the contrary. For 
though, it is possible that political 
or personal opponents of Anytus 
and his fellow accusers may have 
made use of their appearance 
against Socrates to bring a charge 
against them, and to procure 
their condemnation, yet (1) the 
testimonies are by no means so 
ancient or so unimpeachable that 
we can depend upon them. (2) 
They contradict one another in 
all their details, not to mention 
Diogenes' anachronism about Ly- 
sippus. And (3) the main point 
is, that neither Plato, nor Xeno- 
phon nor the writer of Xenophon' s 
Apology ever mention an oc- 
rencp, which they could not have 
failed to regard with great satis- 



170 SOCRATES. 



X. 



Chap. class of interests to justify a serious attack upon 
him. If in spite of the absence of any such 
ground for attack, he was nevertheless accused and 
condemned, what else can have been the cause but 
the lowest of motives — personal hatred ? Now as 
no class of men had so much reason for hating 
Socrates as the Sophists, whose aims and actions 
he was always thwarting, and who were supposed to 
be capable of any crime, it must have been at their 
instigation that Anytus and Meletus induced Ari- 
stophanes to complete his play of the Clouds, and 
afterwards themselves brought Socrates to trial. 
This was the general view of the learned in former 
times. 1 

Freret, in the last century, was the first to point 
out 2 that this was a view quite untenable. He proved 
that Meletus was a child when the Clouds was 
performed, and that at a much later period Anytus 
was on good terms with Socrates ; that neither Anytus 
had anything to do with the Sophists — Plato always 
represents him as the inveterate enemy and despiser 
of them 3 — nor Meletus with Aristophanes; 4 and he 
showed, that no historian of any weight mentions 
the Sophists as taking part in the accusation of 
Socrates. 5 Besides, the Sophists, who had little 

1 Reference to Brucker, i. 549, 4 Aristophanes often amuses 
in preference to any others. himself at the expense of the 

2 In the admirable treatise : poet Meletus, but, as has been 
Observations sur les Causes et remarked, this Meletus ^vas pro- 
sur quelques Circonstances de la bably an older man than the 
Condamnation de Socrate, in the accuser of Socrates. See Her- 
Mem. de TAcademie des Inscript. mann, De Socr. Accus. 5. 
i. 47, 209. 5 JEW&n (V. H. ii. 13) the chief 

3 Meno, 92, A. authority for the previous hy- 



THE SOPHISTS NOT TO BLAME. 171 

or no political influence in Athens, 1 could never Chap. 
have procured the condemnation of Socrates. Least '• 

of all, would they have preferred against him charges 
which immediately recoiled on their own heads. 2 
This argument of Freret's, after passing unnoticed 
for a long time, 3 has latterly met with general ap- 
proval. 4 Many of the details, however, are doubt- 
ful, and it is an open question whether the con- 
demnation of Socrates was a work of private revenge, 
or whether it resulted from more general motives ; 
if the latter, whether these motives were political, or 
moral, or religious ; and lastly, whether the sentence 
was, according to the popular view, a crying wrong, or 
whether it may admit of a partial justification. 5 It 
has even been asserted by one writer, following in the 
steps of Cato, 6 that of all sentences ever passed, the 
sentence on Socrates was the most strictly legal. 
Among these views the one which comes next and 

pothesis, knows nothing about therefore unknown to the German 

a suborning of Anytus by the writers of the last century, who 

Sophi>ts. for the most part follow the old 

1 The political career of Damon, view; for instance, Meiners, 
who according to the use of the (resell, d. Wissenschaft, ii. 476 ; 
Greek language can be called a Tiedeman, G-eist d. spek.Phil. ii. 
Sophist, establishes nothing to the 21. Others, such as Buhle, Gesch. 
contrary. d. Phil. i. 372; Tenneman, Gresch. 

2 Protagoras had been indicted d. Phil. ii. 40, confine themselves 
for atheism before Socrates, and to stating generally, that Socrates 
on the same plea Socrates was made many enemies by his zeal 
attacked by Aristophanes, who for morality,' without men tioning 
never spared any partizans of the Sophists. 

sophistry. 4 There are a few exceptions, 

3 The treatise of Preret was such as Heinsius. 

written as early as 1736, but not 5 Forchhammer : Die Athener 

published till 1809, when it und Socrates, die G-esetzlichen 

appeared together with several und der Eevolutionar. 

other of his writings. It was 6 Plut. Cato, c. 23. 



172 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
X. 

(b) It did 
not proceed 
from per- 
sonal 
animosity. 

(a) Anytus 
may have 
borne him 



lies nearest to hand 5 is that of some older writers, 
who refer the execution of Socrates to personal 
animosity, and give up as untenable the idea that 
the Sophists were in any way connected with it. 1 A 
great deal may be said in its favour. In Plato, 2 
Socrates declared that he was not the victim of 
Anytus or Meletus, but of the ill-will which he 
incurred by his criticism of men. Anytus, however, 
as we know, bore him a grudge on personal grounds. 
Plato suggests 3 that he was aggrieved with the judg- 
ments passed by Socrates on the leading statesmen 
of the time ; but, according to Xenophon's Apology, 4 
he was offended because Socrates urged him to 
prepare his son for a higher profession than that of 
a dealer in leather ; by which it appears he had made 
the young man discontented with his business. 5 



1 This is found in Fries, G-esch. 
d. Phil. i. 249, who speaks of the 
i hatred and envy of a great 
portion of the people,' as the 
motives which brought about the 
trial. Sigwart, Gesch. d. Phil. i. 
S9, gives prominence to this 
motive, and Brandis, who dis- 
tinguishes two kinds of opponents 
to Socrates (Gr. rom. Phil. ii. 26), 
those who considered his philo- 
sophy incompatible with ancient 
discipline and morality, and those 
who could not endure his moral 
earnestness, attributes the accu- 
sation to the latter. Grote, viii. 
637, inclines to the same view. 
He proves how unpopular Socrates 
must have made himself by his 
criticism of men. He remarks 
that Athens was the only place 
where it would have been possible 
to carry it on so long, and that 



it is by no means a matter for 
wonder, that Socrates was ac- 
cused and condemned, but only 
that this did not happen sooner. 
If he had been tolerated so long, 
there must have been special 
reasons, however, for the accu- 
sation ; and these he is inclined 
to find partly in his relations to 
Critias and Alcibiades, and partly 
in the hatred of Anvtus. 

2 Apol. 28, A. ; 22, E. ; 23, C. 

3 Meno, 94 ; in reference to 
which Diog. ii. 38, says of 
Anytus : ovros yap ov cpepow rhv 
virb ^ooKpdrovs xAeucuT/uoy. 

4 Compare with this Hegel, 
Gesch. d. Phil. ii. 92; Grote, 
Hist, of Greece, viii. 661. 

5 Later writers know more. 
According to Plut. Ale. c. 4 ; 
Amator. 17, 27; and Satyrus in 
Athenaeus, xii. 534, e, Anytus was 



PERSONAL HATRED NOT THE ONLY CAUSE. 173 

Anytus is said to have been the first who suggested Chap. 
to Aristophanes the idea of a comedy on Socrates ; ' 



and he afterwards took part with Meletus in the 
formal accusation. 1 Nor is it improbable that some 
such motives were active in producing the attack on 
Socrates, and contributed in no small degree to its 
success. To convince men of their ignorance is the 
most thankless of tasks. Any one who could do so 
for a life-time so unsparingly as Socrates, must 
expect to make many enemies ; and they will be 
dangerous ones, if he singles out men of distinguished 
position or talents for the objects of his criticism. 

But personal animosity cannot have been the sole (0) Sut 
cause of the condemnation of Socrates, nor is Plato's % ave i em 
language about Anvtus conclusive. Indeed the more other causes 

° ° . at work to 

Socrates and his pupils became convinced of the lead to his 
iustice of his cause, the less were they able to dis- condemna - 
cover the real grounds of the accusation. If the one 
wish of Socrates was to do w T hat was best, what 
ground could any one possibly have had for opposing 
him, except wounded pride ? The story in Xenophon 
would at best only explain the hatred of Anytus, but 
it would not account for the widely spread prejudice 
against Socrates. Whether it is true at all is ques- 
tionable ; and supposing it to be true, it is doubtful 
whether this personal injury was the only cause 

a lover of Alcibiades, but was have deceived Luzac (De Socr, 

rejected by him, whilst Alcibiades Cive, 133); especially since Xe- 

showed every attention to So- nophon and Plato would never 

crates, and hence the enmity of have omitted in silence such a 

Anytus to Socrates. Such an reason for the accusation, 

improbable story ought not to 1 JElian, V. H. ii. 13. 



174 SOCRATES. 

Chap. which influenced Anytus against him. 1 Allowing, 
__J___ too, that Socrates made many enemies of influential 
people, is it not strange that their personal animosity 
should never have burst forth till immediately after 
the re-establishment of order in Athens ? In the 
most unsettled and corrupt times no serious perse- 
cution had been set on foot against him, and at 
the time of the enquiry into the mutilation of 
the Hermse, no advantage had been taken of his 
connection with Alcibiades ; nor had he suffered from 
the incensed state of popular feeling after the battle 
(7) This is of Arginusse. 2 Even Plato allows 3 that what told 
^Plato's ^ against Socrates most at the trial, w 7 as the general 
language, conviction that his teaching was of a dangerous cha- 
racter; and he states that as matters then stood, 
it was impossible for any one to speak the truth in 
political matters without being derided as a vain 
babbler, and persecuted as a corrupter of youth. 4 
On this point the testimony of writers so opposite as 
Xenophon and Aristophanes proves that it was not 
merely a passing prejudice, at least not in Athens, 
but that it lasted a whole life-time, not confined to 
the masses, but shared by men of high importance 
and influence in the state. 

1 This is just possible. That treaties, and not abusing his 

the character of Anytus was not political power to make amends 

unimpeachable we gather from for his losses during the oligar- 

the story (Aristot. in Harpo- chical government, 

oration 5eKafa>*>; Diodor. xiii. 64; 2 The astonishment expressed 

Plut. Coriol. 14), that when he by Tenneman at this is natural 

was first charged with treason he from his point of view. Only his 

corrupted the judges. On the solution of the difficulty is hardly 

other hand, Isocr. (in Callim. 23) satisfactory, 

praises him for being together 3 Apol. 18, B. ; 19, B. ; 23, D. 

with Thrasybulus faithful to the 4 Polit. 299, B. ; Rep. vi. 488, 



PERSOXAL HAT BED XOT THE SOLE CAUSE. 175 

With regard to Aristophanes, it has been asserted Chap. 
latterly l that real feeling cannot be united with his ^_^__ 



coarse kind of wit : earnest and real patriotism can ( 5 ) And 
never express itself in sneers and ridicule : even Aristo- 
when it appears to be seriously meant, it is the P^nes, 

11 _ m ' who was a 

seriousness of frivolity, praising for the moment what realpatriot. 
is great and sacred, and treading it in the dust 
directly afterwards with zeal greater in proportion to 
the praise. Others have with justice come to the 
rescue of the moral character of Aristophanes against 
such a depreciation. 2 To make him a dry preacher 
of morals would be ridiculous. It is equally un- 
satisfactory to bring into such prominence the political 
motives of his plays as to forget their worth as works 
of art, and to cloth a comedian, who in a mad fit 
exposes to ridicule all authorities divine and human, 
with the serious garb of a political prophet. 3 But 
it is again an error to lose sight of the grave vein 
which underlies the comic license of his plays, and 
to mistake his occasional pathos for off-hand jest. 
If nothing but flippancy were intended, the insin- 
cerity of the sentiment would soon show itself in 
artistic defects, as is actually the case in the modern 
French and German Romances. There the utter 

496, C. ; Apol. 32, E. ; Gorg. 473, passage on the fate of Socrates, 

E. ; 521, D. G-esch. d. Phil. ii. 82, is not quite 

1 By Droysen in his transla- free from it, although both of 
tion of Aristophanes, i. 263 ; iii.12. them justly recognise ( HegelJPha- 

2 Brandis, Gr. rom. Phil. ii. a, nomena log. 560 ; iEsthetik, 537, 
26 ; Schnitzer in his translation 562 ; Eotscher, p. 365), that there 
of the Clouds. is an element subversive of Greek 

3 Kotscher's spirited descrip- life, quite as much in the comedies 
tion suffers from this onesided- f Aristophanes, as in the state 
ness, and even Hegel, in his of things of which he complains. 



176 SOCRATES. 

Chap. hollowness of all moral foundation is the cause of 

. that fatal want of unity, which baffles every attempt 

at perfect poetry, and with discordant notes destroys 
the harmony of the parts. But instead of this, a 
real feeling of patriotism may be observed in Ari- 
stophanes, not only in the unsullied beauty of many 
individual utterances, but like a key-note sounding 
through all his plays, perhaps in the earlier ones 
disturbing his poetic flow, 1 but proving all the more 
conclusively, how near the love of country lay to his 
heart. 

This alone could have induced him to give a 
political turn to his comedies, by w r hich, as he justly 
takes credit to himself, 2 comedy gained a far higher 
ground than had been allowed it by his predecessors. 
At the same time it cannot be denied that Ari- 
stophanes is as much deficient as others in the 
morality and the faith of the earlier ages. 3 No 
doubt, when men and circumstances had so tho- 
roughly changed, it was absurd to endeavour to re- 
turn to the olden time. But it by no means follows 
that the attempt was not made by him in good faith. 
His was indeed a case frequently met with in 
history — a man attacking a principle in others, which 
he is unconsciously following himself. Aristophanes 
attacked innovations in morals, politics, religion, 
and art. But being in his inmost soul the offspring 
of his age, he combated them with the weapons and 

1 Compare Schnitzer, and the 2 Peace, 732; Wasps, 1022; 
passages quoted by him. Clouds, 537. 

3 Compare Droysen. 



NOT CONDEMNED FOR POLITICAL VIEWS. 177 

in the spirit of this age, and thus became entangled Chap. 
in the contradiction of trying to revive, and yet by one ' 

and the same act destroying, the old morality. It can 
just as little be questioned that he was guilty of this 
inconsistency, as it can be doubted that it was a 
proof of shortsightedness to attempt to preserve a 
form of culture which had been irretrievably lost. 
But that he was conscious of this inconsistency can- 
not be believed. A buffoon without sentiment — (this 
is what Droysen makes him to be) — would hardly 
have ventured to attack Cleon, a task so fraught with 
peril. And would Plato have brought him into the 
society of Socrates in the Symposium, and made 
him utter a speech full of gaiety, if he had seen 
in him so despicable a character ? If, however, the 
attack upon Socrates was seriously meant, and Ari- 
stophanes really took him. to be a Sophist dangerous 
alike to religion and morality — which was the view 
he expresses in the Clouds — it will be seen that the 
charges preferred at the trial were not an empty 
sham, and that something more than personal 
grudges must have been active in producing his 
condemnation. 

If, then, taking into account all that is known of (c) Was he 
the trial and the personal character of the accusers, f a p uti- 
we ask what were really the causes at work, we have cal V art V ■ 
but one of two alternatives left: either the attack 
on Socrates was specially directed against his politi- 
cal creed, 1 or it was directed in general against his 

1 This is the view of Freret, of crate juste damnato (Lips. 1738), 
Dresig in the dissertation De So- of Suvern (notes to Clouds), of 

N 



178 SOCRATES. 

Chap. mode of thought and teaching in regard to morals, 
religion, and politics. 1 Both explanations are to a 
great extent the same, but they are not so identical 
that we can avoid distinguishing them. 

A great deal may be alleged in favour of the view, 
that the attack on Socrates was undertaken in the 
interest of the democratic party. Anytus, one of 
the accusers, was a leading democrat at the time. 
The judges too are spoken of as men, who had 
been banished and had returned with Thrasybulus. 2 
Further, one of the charges preferred against Socrates 
was, that Critias, the most unscrupulous and the 
most hated of the oligarchical party, had been his 
pupil ; 3 and iEschines 4 plainly says to the Athenians : 
You have put to death the Sophist Socrates, because 
he was the teacher of Critias. Others, too, are found 
among the friends and pupils of Socrates, who must 
have been hated by the democrats because of their 
aristocratical sympathies. Such were Charmides, 5 
and Xenophon, who was banished from Athens 6 
about the time of the trial of Socrates, perhaps 

Bitter, Gesch. d. Phil. ii. 30, and 4 Adv. Tim. 173. No great im- 

of Forchhammer (Die Athener portanee can be attached to this 

und Socrates). More indefinite authority, as the context shows, 

is Hermann, Plat. i. 35, and iEschines is talking as an orator 

Wiggers, Socr. p. 123. not as an historian. 

1 Hegel, G-esch. d. Phil. ii. 81 ; s Charmides,the uncle of P]ato, 
Eotscher, p. 256, 268, specially one of the thirty, was, according 
with reference to the Clouds of toXen. Hell, ii. 4, 19, one of the 
Aristophanes ; Henning, Princ. ten commanders at the Peirseus, 
der Ethik. p. 44. Compare, and fell on the same day with 
Baur, Socrates und Christus, Tub. Critias in conflict with the exiled 
Zeitschrift, 1837. Athenians. 

2 Plato, Apol. 21, A. 6 Forchhammer, p. 84, also 

3 Xen. Mem. i. 2, 12 ; Plato, mentions Theramenes, the sup- 
Apol. 33, A. porter of the thirty tyrants, who 



NOT CONDEMNED FOR POLITICAL VIEWS. 



179 



even in connection with It 3 because of his inti- 
macy with CyruSj the friend of the Spartans. And 
lastly, it is especially recorded, that in one of the 
formal indictments Socrates was charged w r ith using 
slighting expressions regarding the democratic form 
of election by lot, 1 and with teaching his audience 
to treat the poor with insolence, 2 by so frequently 
quoting the w r ords — 

Each prince of name or chief in arms approved, 
He fired with praise, or with persuasion moved. 



Chap. 
X. 



But if a clamorous vile plebeian rose, 

Him with reproof he check' d or tamed with blows.' 



may have been a pupil of So- 
crates without, as Forchhammer 
will have it, adopting the political 
opinions of his teacher. .But 
Diodor., xiv. 5, from whom the 
story comes, is a very uncer- 
tain authority. For Diodorus 
combines with it the very im- 
probable story that Socrates 
tried to rescue Theramenes from 
the clutches of the thirty, and 
could only be dissuaded from 
this audacious attempt by many 
entreaties. Neither Xenophon 
nor Plato mention Theramenes 
among the pupils of Socrates. 
In the accusation brought against 
the victors at Arginusse, it was 
Socrates who espoused their cause, 
and Theramenes who by his in- 
trigues brought about their con- 
demnation. 

1 Mem. i. 2, 9, 

2 Ibid. i. 2, 58. 

3 Iliad, ii. 188. Forchhammer 
detects a great deal more in these 
verses. He thinks that Socrates 
was thus expressing his con- 
viction of the necessity of an 



oligarchical constitution, and 
was using the words of Hesiod 
epyov 5' ovhev oveidos (which the 
accusers also took advantage of, 
as a plea for not delaying, but for 
striking when the time for action 
came. The real importance of 
the quotation from Homer, he 
contends, must not be sought in 
the verses quoted by Xenophon, 
but in those omitted by him (II. 
ii. 192-197, 203-2C5): the charge 
was not brought against Socrates 
for spreading anti-democratic 
sentiments, which Xenophon 
alone mentions, but for promot- 
ing the establishment of an 
oligarchical form of government. 
This is however the very opposite 
of historical criticism. If Forch- 
hammer relies upon the statements 
of Xenophon, how can he at the 
same time assert that they are 
false in most important points ? 
And if on the other hand he 
wishes to strengthen these state- 
ments, how can he use them to 
uphold the view, by which he 
condemns them ? He has, how- 



N 2 



180 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
X. 



(d) He was 
the victim 
of more 
general 
causes 1 

(a) The 
charges 
were not 
directed 
against the 
political 
element in 
his teach- 
ing only. 



Taking all these facts into account, there can be 
no doubt that the interests of the democratic party 
were involved in the trial of Socrates. 

But we cannot rest content with these reasons. 
The indictment by no means brings into promi- 
nence the anti-republican sentiments of Socrates. 
The charges against him were, that he rejected the 
Grods of his country and that he corrupted youth. 1 
These Grods were however not merely the Grods of the 
republican party, but the Grods of Athens. If in 
individual cases, as for instance in the affair of the 
Herrnse, insult to the Grods was connected with at- 
tacks on the republican government, the connection 
was by no means a necessary one, nor was it named 
in the act of accusation. With regard to the corrup- 
tion of youth, 2 it certainly was one of the charges 
brought against Socrates that he instilled aristocratic 
insolence into young men, and a scorn for republican 
forms of government, and also that he was the teacher 



ever, detected oligarchical ten- 
dencies elsewhere, where no 
traces of them exist. For in- 
stance, he enumerates not only 
Critias but Alcibiades among the 
anti-democratical pupils of So- 
crates ; andhe speaks of the politi- 
cal activity of Socrates after the 
battle of Arginusse by remarking 
that the oligarchs elected on the 
council board their brethren in 
political sentiments. It is true 
the levity of Alcibiades made 
him dangerous to the democratic 
party, but in his own time he 
never passed for an oligarch, but 
for a democrat. See Xen. Mem. 
i. 2, 12 ; Thuc. viii. 63, 48 and 68.- 



"With regard to the condemnation 
of the victors of Arginusae. Athens 
had then not only partially, but 
altogether shaken off the oligar- 
chical constitution of Pisander. 
This maybe gathered from Freret's 
remark, from the account of the 
trial (Xen. Hell. i. 7), as well as 
from the distinct statement of 
Plato (Apol. 32, C. : teal ravra 

/J.€V i)V €TL §r\U.OKpCLTOVfJL€VriS TT}S 

7r6\€cos) ; not to mention the fact 
that these generals were decided 
democrats, and hence could not 
have been elected bv oligarchs. 

1 Plato, Apol. 24, B. 

2 Mem. i. 2, 9. 



CONDEMNED ON GENERAL GROUNDS. 181 

of Critias. But credit was also given him on account Chap. 
of his being the teacher of Aleibiades, who had '_ 



injured the city by republican rather than by aristo- 
cratic opinions. A further charge was, that he 
taught sons to despise their fathers, 1 and that he 
permitted them to indulge in actions which brought 
gain, 2 no matter how base or unjust they might be. 

It would appear from this, that not only was ^ ^ut 
the political side of his teaching, in the narrower extended 

x ° to its moral 

sense of the term, the subject of attack, but its and 

bearing's on morals and religion were also included. rell 9 1 : 0US 
° ° bearings. 

The latter points are what chiefly engaged the at- 
tention of Aristophanes. After all the ancient and 
modern discussions as to the scope of the Clouds, 3 it 
may be taken for established, that the Socrates of 
this comedy is not intended to be a representative 
— exaggerated of course by comic license — of a 
mode of thought which Aristophanes knew was 
foreign to the real Socrates. 4 Aristophanes did not 
desire to attack the propensity to subtle distinc- 
tions in general, and the absurdities of sophistry 
and useless learning; but the play was distinctly 
aimed at the peculiar tendency of the Socratic 
philosophy. It cannot, however, be supposed, after 
what has been already said, that this attack pro- 
ceeded only from malice or from personal animosity 

1 Xen. Mem. i. 2, 49; Apol. to their translations of the Clouds, 
20 and 29. have further expanded the ques- 

2 3Iem. i. 2, 56. tion. 

3 Kotscher (Aristophanes, p. 4 As is assumed by Gr. Her- 
272), gives a review of previous mann, Praef. ad Nubes, and by 
opinions. Since then, Droysen others. 

and Schnitzer in the introductions 



182 SOCRATES. 

Chap. on the part of Aristophanes, Plato's description of 
' the Symposium places this out of the question. The 



opinions of Eeisig 1 and Wolf 2 are equally unten- 
able. Eeisig makes the character which Aristophanes 
assigns to Socrates, belong not to the individual 
Socrates, but to the whole body of his pupils, in par- 
ticular to Euripides. The spectators, however, would 
certainly have referred the whole to Socrates, and 
hence we may infer that Aristophanes intended them 
to do so. Wolf suggests that the portrait in the Clouds 
depicts the younger years of Socrates, when he was 
devoted to natural philosophy. But the very same 
objections were raised against him eighteen years later 
in the Frogs; 3 and we gather from Plato's Apology that 
the current view of Socrates and his teaching up to the 
time of his death agreed substantially with that of Ari- 
stophanes. Besides, it hardly needs to be repeated here 
that Socrates probably never was a lover of natural 
philosophy ; and that in the Clouds he is attacked as 
a Sophist rather than as a natural philosopher. 
(7) This is Aristophanes must really have believed that he 

proved by (Ji scern ed i n the Socrates with whom the history of 

the part J 

assigned to philosophy has to do, a principle deserving his attack. 
Socrates m mL . • r . • .■* . -i ■% . j , 

the Clouds "J- bis 1S > °* course > n °t saying that he did not exagger- 
ate the historical figure and consciously attribute to 
it many features in reality foreign to it. But we 
must suppose that the outline of his picture agreed 
with the idea he had formed to himself of Socrates, 

1 Prsef. ad Nnbes. Similarly Van Heusde, Char- 

2 In his translation of the acterismi, p. 19. 
Clouds. See Kotseher, 297. 3 Frogs, 1491. 



CONDEMNED ON GENERAL GROUNDS. 183 

and with current opinion. He would otherwise have Chap. 

been guilty of a misrepresentation, quite out of '_ 

keeping with his usual character and with the atti- 
tude he occupied towards Socrates according to 
Plato's account; a misrepresentation, too, which would 
have injured the success of the play. Plato tells us 
expressly, that public opinion pronounced the picture 
of Aristophanes to be in the main correct ; and 
hence the belief of Silvern cannot possibly be right, 1 
that the Socrates of the Clouds is not meant to be an 
individual, but a type of a school of cavilling and dis- 
play, 2 this school being the real object of attack. Far 
from it, Socrates was made to be the champion of so- 
phistry because Aristophanes really regarded him as a 
Sophist and believed that in his public capacity he was 
guilty of the things laid to his charge. Not a single 
part of his picture has an exclusively political colour. 
Independently of what is altogether irrelevant and 
obviously fabricated, the charges against him are 
three: his being occupied with useless physical and in- 
tellectual subtleties, 3 his rejecting the Gods of the 
city, 4 and what is the turning point of the whole play, 
his sophistic facility of speech, which can gain for the 
wrong side the victory, and make the weaker argu- 
ment appear to be the stronger. 5 In other words, 

1 In the treatises already re- 3 143-234, 636. 
ferred to. 4 365-410. 

2 2s ot to mention the false 5 Clouds, 889. Droysen unfairly 
opinion, which however is sup- blames this play for making a 
ported by Hertzberg, that the stronger argument into a right one. 
play was aimed at Alcibiades, The Xoyos Kpeirroiv is the really 
who is concealed under the name stronger case in point of justice, 
of Phidippides. which is however thrown into the 



184 SOCRATES. 

Chap. the speculative, irreligious, and sophistical bearings 
_„"J of the Socratic teaching are attacked ; but there is 



not one word which relates to an anti-republican 
tendency, although Aristophanes, had he observed it, 
might have been expected to insist on it more than 
anything else. Even at a later time 1 these were the 
only charges mentioned by Aristophanes, and the only 
ones which, according to Plato, continued to wield 
any influence on his opponents. 2 Hence when Plato 
assures us (18, B.) that these charges were particu- 
larly fatal to Socrates, there is every reason to believe 
that his assurance may be accepted. 
(5) Socrates Allowing however that political motives had some 
attacked we i£ht in the condemnation of Socrates, how can this 

not only o 7 

because of admission be made to agree with the previous state- 
republican ment ? The reply to this question has been already 
views, but pointed out. 3 The conviction of the guilt of Socrates 

as being an 

enemy of resulted from a behei, that the tendency of his teaching 
the good was (j an g erous to morality and religion, but the reason 

oia T/Viiie, 

that he was judicially presented lay without doubt in 
the special political circumstances of the times. The 
growth of sophistry was neither the sole nor the chief 
cause of the fall of Athens in the Peloponnesian war, but 

shade by the Xoyos H\ttwv ; and ris avrovs epcora, o ri iroiuy kol 

what is meant by rov rjrrca Xoyov o rt SjSria/ooi/, exoutn fxkv ovZev 

Kpeirrcc iroieiv is, making the case eiVeTz/, aXX 3 dyvoovo-iv, 'iva Se fjLTj 

which in point of justice is weaker, HokShtiv diropeiv, ra Kara irdvrcov 

to be the stronger as to the actual rcov tyiXoaocpovvToov irpox^^po-ravra 

result, — giving to an unjust act Xsyovcriv, on ra fjierecopa ical ra 

the colour of justice. vtto 777s, uat deovs /jlt) po/jll^iv kcu 

1 Frogs, 1491. rov ^jrra) Xoyov Kpeirrw iroisiv. 

2 Apol. 23, D. : Xeyovo~iv, d>y 3 Eitter, p. 31. Marbach, 
2w/cpctT7]s ris eo~n fxiap&raros koX Gesch. d. Phil. i. 185, 9 ; and 
diacpdtipeL robs vious ' Kal €7rei5dV Schwelger, G-esch. d. Phil. 30. 



CONDEMNED ON GENERAL GROUNDS. 185 

yet it contributed to that result ; and naturally the Chap. 
opponents of the new culture were disposed to lay _____!___ 
more to its charge than it deserved. Had not the 
schools of the Sophists sent forth many of the modern 
statesmen, who had either as aristocrats or as dema- 
gogues torn the state to pieces ? Was it not in those 
schools that a corrupt form of morality was taught, 
which substituted the wishes and caprice of the 
individual in place of the customary morality and 
religion, put self-interest in the place of right, and 
taught that absolute sovereignty was the summit of 
human happiness? Were not those schools the cradle 
of an unmeaning eloquence, which employed a variety 
of technical tricks for any purpose, no matter what, 
and made it its highest triumph to gain a victory 
for the side of the wrong ? Can we then wonder that 
Aristophanes considered the new-fangled education 
responsible for all the misfortunes of the common- 
wealth ; x that Anytus cannot find terms strong enough 
to express his horror of the pernicious influence of 
the Sophists ; 2 that all friends of the good old time 
believed that they saw in Sophistry the chief malady 
of the state ; and that this feeling was intensified 
during the last years of the Peloponnesian war, and 
under the concluding reign of force? It was only 
natural that those who rescued Athens from an oli- 
garchy, and with the old constitution re-established 
her political independence, should wish by suppress- 
ing the education of the Sophists to stop the evil at 
its source. Besides, Socrates not only appeared as a 
1 Clouds, 910; Knights, 1373. 2 Meno, 91, C. 



186 SOCRATES. 

Chap. teacher of the modern sophistic school, but the evil 
_1 effects of his teaching were discernible in several of 



his pupils, and principally in Critias and Alcibiades. 1 
Under such circumstances, what is more easy to be 
understood, than that those who were interested in 
the restoration of a popular form of government, and 
of the ancient glory of Athens, should regard him as 
a corrupter of youth, and a dangerous citizen ? Thus 
he fell a victim to the republican reaction which set 
in after the overthrow of the thirty tyrants, although 
his political views were not in themselves the principal 
causes which provoked the attack. His guilt was 
supposed to consist in undermining ancient customs 
aud piety. From this the anti-republican tendency 
of his teaching was supposed to follow as a secondary 
consequence, and for this it also served as an occa- 
sional manifestation. 
C. Just- How do matters then really stand in regard to the 

sentence justice of his accusation 2 and of the sentence to which 

1 How miich this circumstance unimportant, and the learned 
contributed towards the condem- Apologia Socratis contra ZNIeliti 
nation of Socrates is proved by redivivi Calumniam, by P. van 
Xen. Mem. i. 2, 12, as well as by Limburg Erouwer (Gron. 183S), 
the above-mentioned authority, is deficient in insight into the 
JEschines. general questions involved, and 

2 ItiswellknownthatHegelhas is inferior to the treatise of 
defended it on the side of Greek Preller, although many of its de- 
law, and Dresig, a hundred years tails are valuable. Luzac, despite 
earlier, maintained in a very his usual learning, does little 
superficial treatise, that Socrates, for the question. But Grote's 
as an opponent of a republican remarks on the extenuating cir- 
government, had been justly con- cumstances, which do not al- 
demned. Porehhammer goes a together justify but excuse the 
great deal further in his treatise, condemnation of Socrates, are 
and so does Denis. The answer deserving of all attention. Grote, 
of Heinsius to Forchhammer is Hist, of Greece, viii. 678, 653. 



JUSTICE OF THE SENTENCE. 187 

it led? And what must be thought of the modern Chap. 

attempts to justify them? Most of the charges which '__ 

were preferred against Socrates, rest undeniably on (?) Un ~ 

x ° " jounded 

misunderstandings, perversions, or false inferences, charges. 

Socrates is said to have rejected the Grods of the (a)lnrela- 

state, although we have seen this contradicted by teaching, 

all historical testimonies. 1 He is said to have sub- l ffo> and 

-i-i't^ • • -i* i ii influence. 

stituted his Dsemomum m their place, although he 
neither put it in the place of the Gods, nor sought 
by it to encroach on the ground of the oracles. It 
was a private oracle over and above, not instead of 
those recognised by the state; and in a country 
where divine revelations were not the exclusive pro- 
perty of the priesthood, a private oracle could be re- 
fused to no one. 2 He is said to have been devoted 
to the atheism of Anaxagoras, 3 although he expressly 
declared it to be absurd. He is said by Aristo- 
phanes to have given instruction in the rhetorical 
display of the Sophists — a charge so untrue, that 

1 Forchhammer repeats the how much private divination was 
charge without proof, as if its practised besides appealing to 
truth were obvious of itself, and public oracles. 

he speaks of orthodoxy and 3 Not only Aristophanes but 

heresy like a modern theologian. Meletus brings this charge against 

But a Greek thought far less of him in Plato. If Forchhammer 

belief than of outward service, and considers it incredible that Me- 

hence Xenophon, Mem. i. 1, 2, letus should have given such a 

refutes the charge by an appeal careless reply to Socrates, he 

to the fact, that he had sacrificed forgets that it is always the 

to the Gods, way of the world to confound 

2 Xenophon therefore refers relative with positive atheism, 
to the Daemonium (Mem. i. 1, 2) doubts about particular religious 
as a proof of Socrates' belief in notions with the denial of all 
the Gods, and Plato compares religion. This is quite universal 
his revelations with the prophecies in the nations of antiquity, and 
of Euthyphro (Euthyphro, 3, B). therefore the early Christians were 
It is known from other sources, called &Qeoi. 



188 SOCRATES. 



X. 



Chap. even Meletus did not venture to bring it against him. 
He is blamed for having been the teacher of Critias 
and Alcibiades, to which even Xenophon justly re- 
plied 1 that these men did not learn their vices from 
Socrates, nor fall into them until after they had been 
separated from him. Allowing, too, that a teacher 
ought to instil into his pupils a permanent love 
for what is good, 2 is it his fault if he does not 
succeed in particular cases ? The value of any 
instruction can only be estimated by its collective 
effects, and these bear as bright a testimony to the 
value of the instruction of Socrates as any that can 
be produced. A man whose beneficial influence was 
not only felt by many individuals, 3 but by whom a 
new foundation for morals was laid which served its 
purpose for centuries, was, as a matter of course, no 
corrupter of youth. Objection has been taken to the 
verses of Hesiod, by which Socrates sought to pro- 
mote useful activity; 4 but Xenophon has already 
shown that he is not to blame for the use that was 
made of them. He has been accused of teaching men 
to despise parents and relations, because he main- 
tained that knowledge alone constituted worth; 5 but 
surely this is a most unfair inference from principles, 
which had a simple meaning in his mouth. Any one 
who tells his pupil that he must learn in order to 
become a useful and estimable man, is surely doing 
what is right. None but the most bigoted could 

1 Mem. i. 2, 12. 4 Mem. i. 2, 56 ; Plato, Char. 

2 Forchhainmer, p. 43. 163, B. 

3 Plato's Apol. 33, D., mentions 5 Mem. i. 2, 49. 
a whole string. 



UNFOUNDED CHARGES. 189 

blame the wish to make sons wiser than their fathers. Chap. 
If Socrates had spoken with scorn of the ignorance " 



of parents, or set lightly by the duty of children, it 
would have been a different thing; but he was far 
from so doing. 1 It may possibly be replied that one 
who judged the worth of a man simply and solely 
by his knowledge, and who at the same time found 
everybody deficient in knowledge, was making his 
pupils self-conceited, and teaching them to consider 
themselves above all authority by their own imagi- 
nary knowledge. But at the same time that Socrates 
overrated the value of knowledge, he practically 
anticipated the inference to which this over-estimate 
might lead, above all endeavouring to make his 
friends conscious of their own want of knowledge, 
and laying no claim to knowledge himself, but only 
professing to pursue it. Xo fear that any one imbued 
with this spirit of humility and modesty, would 
abuse the teaching of his master. For a misconception 
of his teaching and all its consequences Socrates is 
as little responsible as any other teacher. 

Another point which is touched upon in the ju- {^Charges 
dicial proceedings is of more moment — the relation ( ^ edin 9 

L ° his posi- 

1 Conf. 3Iem. ii. 2, 3. A ought to know the circumstances 

further charge is connected with better. In the single fact there 

the above, viz.,, that he induced mentioned, that of the son of 

many young men to follow him Anytus, the historical character 

rather than their parents in of which appears doubtful. So- 

culture. Xen. (Apology) allows crates probably did not set the 

it, and attempts to justify it. son against his father, but urged 

But to decide whether it is an the father to give him a better 

established fact, and whether education, or else expressed him- 

Socrates is here to blame (it is self to a third party to that 

quite possible) we need more effect, 
trustworthy authorities, and we 



190 SOCRATES. 

Chap. of Socrates himself to the Athenian democracy. As 

" is well known, Socrates considered the existing con- 

honto stitution a complete failure. He would not have 

wards the L 

state. places of power in the state determined by lot or by 

election, but by the qualification of the individuals ; 
and he occasionally expressed opinions respecting 
the multitudes who thronged the Pnyx and filled the 
theatre, which certainly had a great deal of truth in 
them, but came very near treason against the sove- 
reignty of the people. 1 It was but natural that 
his accusers should make use of such expressions, 
and that they should influence the judges. But to 
blame existing institutions boldly is by no means 
treason. Some Grecian states may have confined 
the liberty of speech within very narrow limits, but 
at Athens the freedom of thought and of speech was 
unlimited, and formed an essential portion of the 
republican constitution. The Athenians regarded it 
as an inalienable right and were proud to be distin- 
guished by it from every other state. 2 In the time 
of the most violent party quarrels there is no instance 
of interference with either political views or political 
teaching. The outspoken friends of a constitution 
like that of Sparta could openly adhere to their 
colours, so long as they refrained from actual attacks 
on the existing state of things; and was Socrates 

1 In Mem. iii. 7, Socrates sideration. The charge pre- 

attempts to relieve Charmides of ferred by the accuser, Mem. i. 2, 

his dread of appearing in public 58, that Socrates thought it was 

by reminding him, that the reasonable for the rich to abuse 

people whom he was afraid of, the poor, is clearly a misrepre- 

consisted of peasants, shoe- sentation. 

makers, pedlars, &c, and there- 2 Compare Plato, G-org. 461, E. 
fore did not deserve such con- 



UNFOUNDED CHARGES. 191 

not to be allowed the same privilege? 1 Nothing, Chap. 
however, in the shape of actual deeds could be laid to x 
his charge. He had never transgressed the laws of 
the state. His duties as a citizen had been consci- 
entiously fulfilled. His avowed opinion was that man 
must live for the state and obey its laws. He was 
no partizan of the oligarchical faction. On the con- 
trary, he had twice hazarded his life, once to rescue 
the victors at Arginusse — good democrats — from 
the extrajudicial mercies of an infuriated populace, 
the other time to avoid an unjust command of one 
of the thirty tyrants. His school, too, in as far as it 
can be called a school, had no decided politial bias. 
If the greater number of his pupils belonged to the 
upper classes, 2 and hence were naturally in favour of 
the aristocratic party, there were others amongst 
his most intimate friends, 3 who were companions of 
Thrasybulus. Most of his adherents however seem 
to have taken no decided line in politics. In 
reference again to the political inactivity which has 
been laid to his charge in modern times, different 
views may be held, varying with the different sides 
from which it is regarded. We are inclined to 
praise him for continuing faithful to his higher 
calling and not wasting his powers and his life on a 
career, in which he would have attained no success, 

1 Grote's reference to the Pla- Kep. viii. 557, B., reckons freedom 

tonic state, in which no freedom of speech among the evils of a 

of individual opinion was allowed, democracy, his type of which 

is not altogether to the point, was the Athenian form of govern - 

The fundamental ideas of Plato's ment. 

state are different to those then 2 Plato, Apol. 23, C. 

prevailing in Athens. Plato, 3 Ibid. 21, A. 



192 SOCRATES, 

Chap. and for which his character unfitted him. But what- 
ever view may be taken, it is certainly not a punish- 
able offence to avoid a statesman's career ; least of all 
when he who avoids it is convinced that he can be 
of more service to the state in other ways. To help 
the state in his own way was to Socrates an object 
of the highest and deepest interest. His political 
theories might not correspond with the existing 
state of things, but his character as a citizen must be 
admitted to be pure ; and according to the laws of 
Athens, he was guilty of no crime against the state. 1 
(b) Eela- The political views of Socrates were not the only 
twn bome -j-^Qgg which gave offence. His whole attitude was, 

lyy /lis 

theory to as Hegel has shown, 2 at variance with the ground 

JSfSSr' 0CCU P ied b y the old Greek morality. The moral 
life of Greece, like every national form of life, rested 
originally on authority. It relied partly on the un- 
questioned authority of the laws of the state, and 
partly on the all-powerful influence of custom and 
education, regarding general convictions as the un- 
written laws of God, which no one could trace to a 
definite origin. To oppose this traditional morality'was 
a rash and self-conscious act, an offence against God 
and the state. A doubt with regard to its possible 
justification never occurred to any one, and was 

1 At an earlier period it might law had long fallen into disuse, if 

have given offence, if Socrates indeed it had ever been in force ; 

appeared to hold aloof from the and who can blame Socrates for 

political party questions of his remaining neutral when he could 

time, and an appeal might have conscientiously side with none of 

been made to the old law of the conflicting parties? Perhaps 

Solon threatening neutrals in it was a political narrowness, but 

case of an internal quarrel with it was not a crime, 

loss of civil rights. But this - Gesch. d. Phil. ii. 81. 



morality. 



HIS RELATION TO THE ANCIENT MORALITY. 193 

permitted to none. For this very reason, the need Chap. 

of an enquiry into the foundations of morality was ' 

never felt, nor was the duty recognised of proving 

its necessity, or of supporting it by an appeal to 

personal conviction. 

Socrates, however, demanded the enquiry. With (a) Per- 
sonal 

conviction 



him nothing might be believed, and nothing might 

be done, until men were fully convinced of its substituted 

. tot defer- 

truth or expediency. For him it was not enough to mce to 

have a definite course, universally recognised and authority. 
legally established. The individual was required to 
think out each subject for himself, and to discover 
its reasons : true virtue and right actions are only 
possible when they spring from personal conviction. 
Hence his whole life was spent in examining the 
current notions regarding morals, in testing their 
truth, and seeking for their reasons. This examin- 
ation brought him in nearly all points to the same 
principles as those which were established by custom 
and opinion ; and if his notions were clearer and 
better expressed, this advantage was one which he 
shared in common with the best and wisest of his 
contemporaries. Just as little can he be charged 
with imperilling public morality, by making expedi- 
ency its foundation : for in this he was following the 
customary practice. But, nevertheless, tried by the 
standard of the old Greek morality, his position 
seems very critical. In the first place the ordinary 
code of morals, and the received rules of conduct 
resting on authority and tradition, were by him de- 

1 Plato, Apol. 29, C. 




194 SOCRATES. 



Chap. prived of their chief value. They were so much 
• depreciated in the face of knowledge, and of the 
conscious virtue of Socrates, that not only was a 
shock given to the self-love of individuals, but the 
actual validity of the laws was called in question. 
If man has only to follow his convictions, he will 
agree with the popular will only when, and in as far 
as, it agrees with his convictions. If the two come 
into collision, there can be doubt, which he will 
follow. This is candidly avowed by Socrates in his 
defence, in his celebrated declaration that he would 
obey- God rather than the Athenians. 1 And thus his 
principle was, even in theory, a sharp and pointed 
contrast to the older view. It was impossible to 
guarantee a perfect agreement between law and in- 
dividual convictions ; indeed it was highly improbable 
that such an agreement should always exist ; and, as 
a matter of fact, Socrates by his political views was 
undeniably opposed to the existing state of things. 
(j8) Less I n the next place it cannot be concealed that the 

importance w h le character of the Socratic philosophy is at 

attached to 

politics. variance with the preponderance given to the politi- 
cal interests, without which the Greek states could 
never, considering their limited range, have done so 
much that is famous in the history of the world. 
The duty of the individual towards the community 
was indeed recognised by Socrates to its full extent. 
When any of his friends showed ability for the task, 
he urged them to devote their attention to public 
affairs ; but as for those who were young and un- 

1 Mem. iii. 6; iv. 2; Plato, Symp. 216, A. 



HIS RELATION TO THE ANCIENT MORALITY. 195 

formed, it must have been deemed, from the point of Chap. 

x 
view of ancient Greece, a meritorious action to have ___ ; 

kept them back from appearing in public. The 
maxim that man must be clear about himself, and 
be sure of his own moral well-being before he 
interferes with that of others and with the com- 
munity ; l the conviction of Socrates that political 
activity was not only alien to his own character, but 
impossible in the then state of things, to a man of 
integrity ; 2 the whole inward turn which he gave to 
thought and action, his demand for knowledge of 
self, for moral knowledge, for self-training — all this 
could not but create in himself and his pupils a dis- 
inclination for political life. It could not fail to 
make the moral perfection of the individual the main 
point, while activity for the state — that highest and 
most immediate duty of a citizen according to the 
ancient view — was reduced to a subordinate position. 

And, lastly, assuming that Socrates was himself {y) Hs 
fully persuaded of the injustice of the charge that subversive 
he rejected the Grods of his country, his theory, it °f re ^ 
must be admitted, imperilled the belief in their ex- 
istence. A consistent development of what he was 
introducing, and an application of his method to 
religious questions, in order to discover what people 
understood by religion, was alone needed to bring 
about the same result as in politics ; and in the case 
of Antisthenes this result was actually seen in 
religion. This is also true of his daemonium : as 
a kind of oracle it had indeed a place on the ground 

1 Plato. 2 Id., Apol. 31, C. 

o 2 



X. 



196 SOCRATES. 

Chap. of the Greek faith, but by its internal character it 
made the decision depend on the subject instead 
of depending on external portents and other signs. 
And yet how dangerous was this proceeding in a 
country in which oracles were not only a religious 
but a political institution ? How easily might others 
be led to imitate the example of Socrates, following, 
however, their own criticism instead of an unde- 
fined inward feeling, and thus thinking little of 
belief in the Gods or of their utterances ? We may 
indeed be convinced that Socrates was in the right 
in all these points, and it is quite true that he was 
the precursor and founder of our moral view of the 
world; but how could this new idea of right be 
admitted by any one who held the traditions of the 
ancient Greek morality? How could a state built 
upon these traditions allow such an idea to be 
spread, without commiting an act of suicide ? There- 
fore, even while we remember that Socrates laboured 
and taught in his simple manner, not in the Sparta 
of Lycurgus, but in Athens and amongst the genera- 
tion that had fought at Marathon, we shall still find 
it quite natural for the state to endeavour to combat 
his work. For Athens was absolutely ignorant of 
that freedom of personal conviction, which Socrates 
required, nor could she endure it. 1 In such a 



1 To say that the line adopted of Greece. For not only did he 

by Socrates was not opposed to express disapproval of appointing 

the constitution of Solon, as by lot to public offices, which was 

Georgii asserts, is not correct, an institution later than Solon's 

Nor can it be said that Socrates time, but he disliked fhe popular 

required a return to the old life elections of Solon ; and his prin- 



HIS RELATION TO THE MORALITY OF HIS TIME. 197 

community the punishment of an innovator could Chap. 
cause no surprise. For was not a dangerous doc- ' 

trine, according to old notions, a crime against the 
state? And if the criminal resolutely refused to 
obey the sentence of the judges, as Socrates actually 
did, how could the penalty of death fail to follow ? 
To one who starts from the old Grecian view of 
right and the state, the condemnation of Socrates 
cannot appear to be unjust. 1 

It is another question whether Athens then had a (<?) Rela- 
right to this opinion, a point which the defenders of t ^ n ^ me 
Athens assume far too readily. 2 To us the question theory to 
appears to deserve an unqualified negation. If a ^ w ^' 
Socrates had appeared and been condemned in the ^ Uved - 
time of Miltiades and Aristides, his sentence might 
be regarded as a simple act of retaliation of the old was already 

v , ,-. . .. r. . , . t xi • j m* a state 

morality on the spirit ot innovation. In the period f^ eca?/ 
after the Peloponnesian war such a view can no 
longer be admitted. For where was the solid mora- 
lity which Anytus and Meletus were supposed to de- 
fend? Had not all kinds of relations, views, and 
modes of life long since been penetrated by an 
individualising tendency far more dangerous than 
that of Socrates ? Had not men been long accus- 
tomed to see demagogues and aristocrats instead 
of-^the great statesmen of old — demagogues at vari- 

ciple of free investigation is nians exclusively as the repre- 
widely removed from the spirit sentants of the old Grecian moral- 
of Solon's times. ity. Forchhammer, on the con- 
1 Compare the remarks of trary, is anything but impartial, 
Kock on Aristophanes, i. 7. in making the Athenians con- 
Hegel is most nearly right, servative, and Socrates a revo- 



(a) The old 

morality 



although he regards the Athe- lntionary. 



198 SOCRATES. 

Chap. ance with each other on every other point, but 
' agreeing in the wild play of rivalry and ambition ? 



Had not all the cultivated men of that time passed 
through a school of transition which had entirely 
disposed of the beliefs and the morals of their an- 
cestors ? Had not men brought themselves in a 
lifetime to believe that laws were the creations of 
caprice, and that natural right and positive right 
were different things? What had become of the 
olden chastity when Aristophanes could tell his 
hearers in the midst of his attacks on Socrates, half 
in joke, half in derision, that they were one and all 
adulterers ? l What had become of ancient piety at 
a time when the sceptical verses of Euripides w T ere 
in every one's mouth, when every year the happy 
thoughts of Aristophanes and other comedians in 
successful derision of the inhabitants of Olympus 
were being circulated, when the most unprejudiced 
complained that piety, trust, and faith, had vanished, 2 
and when the stories of future retribution were 
greeted with derision? 3 
(j8) So- Socrates did not produce this state of things ; he 

%ll 7n °with f° un( l & already in existence. The charge brought 

what he against him therefore really amounts to this, that he 
■f /j 

entered into the spirit of his time, trying to reform 

it by means of itself, without making the useless 

and mistaken attempt to bring it back to a type of 

culture which was gone for ever. It was an obvious 

mistake of his opponents to make him responsible 

1 Clouds, 1083. 2 Thiic. iii. 82 ; ii. 53. 

3 Plato, Eep. i. 330, D. 



HIS BEL A TIOS TO THE MORALITY OF HIS TIME. 199 

for the corruption of faith and morals, which he was Chap. 
trying to stem in the only possible way. It was a 

palpable delusion on their part to imagine themselves 
men of the good old time. His condemnation was a 
crying political anachronism, one of those unfortu- 
nate measures, by which a policy of reaction is ever 
sure to expose its incompetence and short-sighted- 
ness. Socrates certainly left the original ground of 
Greek thought, and transported it beyond the bounds, 
within which this particular form of national life 
was alone possible. But he did not do so before it 
was time, nor before the untenableness of the old 
position had been amply demonstrated. The revo- 
lution which was silently transforming the whole 
spirit and character of the Greeks, was not the 
fault of one individual, but it was the fault of destiny, 
or rather it was the general fault of the time. The 
Athenians, in punishing him condemned themselves, 
and committed the injustice of making him pay the 
penalty of what was historically the fault of all. 
The condemnation did not in the least degree effect 
the purpose intended : instead of being banished, 
the spirit of innovation was, on the contrary, strength- 
ened all the more. The collision was not a simple 
one between two moral powers equally justified and 
equally limited. Guilt and innocence were not equally 
divided between the parties. On the one hand was 
a principle historically necessary and of high import- 
ance, of which Socrates had an unquestioned claim 
to be the representative. On the other hand, one 
far more limited, represented by his opponents, but 



200 



SOCRATES. 



Chap. 
X. 



(7) 

breach 
between 
Socrates 
and his 
country- 
men teas 
absolute!?/ 
necessary. 



to which they can hardly be said to have a perfect 
right, since they do not faithfully adhere to it. This 
is the peculiar tragic turn in the fate of Socrates. A 
reformer who is truly conservative is attacked by 
nominal but pretended restorers of old times. The 
Athenians in punishing him give themselves up as 
lost ; for in reality it is not for destroying morals 
that he is punished, but for attempting to restore 
them. 

To form a correct judgment of the whole occur- 
rence, we must not forget that Socrates was con- 
demned by only a very small majority, that to all 
appearance it was in his own power to secure his 
acquittal, and that undoubtedly he would have es- 
caped with a far less punishment than death, had he 
not challenged his judges by the appearance of pride. 
These circumstances must make it doubly doubtful, 
whether his ruin was an unavoidable consequence of 
his having opposed the spirit of his nation. They also 
place the guilt of the Athenians in a milder light, by 
laying it in part on the head of the accused. At 
the same time they prove that accidental events, in 
no way connected with the leading character of his 
teaching, had great weight in the final decision. Xo 
doubt Socrates was at variance with the ground occu- 
pied by the ancient morality and with its require- 
ments ; but it by no means follows that in the 
existing state of opinion at Athens a breach between 
him and his nation must necessarily have arisen. 
Although the political reaction after the expulsion of 
the thirty tyrants was sufficiently powerful to bring 



RESULTS OF HIS DEATH. 201 

about an attack on him, the conviction of his guilt Chap. 
was not so universal but that it might have been 



possible for him to escape the punishment of death. 

It was a happy thing for his honour and his cause, IV. The 
that he did not escape. What Socrates in pious £? Jj£ h 
faith expressed after his condemnation — that to die 
would be better for him — has been fully realised in 
his work. The picture of the dying Socrates must at 
the time have been in the highest degree, what it is 
now after centuries have past — a simple testimony to 
the greatness of the human mind, to the power of 
philosophy, and to the victory of a spirit pious and 
pure, reposing on clear convictions. It must have 
appeared to his followers like a guiding star for their 
inner life shining in all its glory ; and thus it is de- 
picted by Plato's master hand. It must have increased 
their admiration for their teacher, their zeal to imitate 
him, their devotion to his teaching. By his death 
the stamp of higher truth was impressed on his life 
and words. The sublime repose and happy cheer- 
fulness with which he met death, was the strongest 
corroboration of all his convictions, the zenith of a 
long life devoted to knowledge and virtue. Death 
did not add to the substance of his teaching, but it 
added greatly to its influence. A life had been 
spent in sowing the seeds of knowledge with a zeal 
unequalled by any other philosopher either before 
or after ; the result was seen at his death, when 
they brought forth fruit abundantly in the Socratic 
Schools. 



PAET III. 

THE IMPERFECT FOLLOWERS OF SOCRATES. 



CHAPTEE XI. 

THE SCHOOL OF SOCRATES : HIS POPULAR PHILOSOPHY. 
XENOPHON : ^SCHINES. 

Chap. A mlnd so great and active in every way as that 
^* of Socrates could not fail to make a lasting impres- 
A. School sion on every kind of character with which it came 
of ocra es. ^ o con t ac t. g u ^ jf ^he mos t perfect systems are 
often not understood by their adherents in the 
sense in which they were intended by their authors, 
may not a much greater dissimilarity and difference 
of apprehension be expected, in a case where no 
complete system existed, but where there were 
only fragments and germs of what might be one — 
a person, a principle, a method, a mass of individual 
utterances and of occasional discussions ? The greater 
part of the followers of Socrates confined their 
attention to what was most obvious, and lay nearest 
to an ordinary intelligence — the originality, the 
purity of character, the intelligent view of life, the 
deep piety and the beautiful moral expression of 



THE SO C RAT I C SCHOOLS. 202 

their teacher. A smaller number devoted them- Chap. 

XI 

selves to the deeper thoughts, which were concealed ^ 

under so unpretentious an outside ; but even of 
these the majority took a very limited view of the 
subjects which occupied Socrates. They combined 
older theories with the teaching of their master, 
w T hich it is true needed such a supplement ; but 
they did it in such a way as almost to lose sight 
of the merits of his philosophy. One only with a 
deeper insight into the spirit of Socrates has suc- 
ceeded in creating a system which reproduces in 
a more brilliant and extended form what Socrates 
had attained in another manner and on a narrower 
scale. 

Of the pupils of Socrates who are known to us, by 
far the greater number undoubtedly belong to those 
first mentioned. 1 Many of the writings attributed to 

1 Among them Crito (Xen. Symp. 173, B., 174, A., 223, B.); 

Mem. ii. 9 ; Plato, Crito, Phaedo, Euthydemus (Mem. iv. 2 ; 3 ; 5 ; 

59, B., 60, A., 63, D., 115, A.; 6; PL Sym. 222, B.) ; Theages 

Euthydemus; Diog. ii. 121, who (PL, Apol. 33, E. ; Eep. vi. 496, 

makes him the author of seven- B.); Hermogenes (Xen. Mem. ii. 

teen books, which, however, be- 10, 3, iv. 8, 4; Sym. 4, 46; ApoL, 

long to him as little as his sup- PL Phsedo, 59, B.); Hermocrates 

posed children do to Hermogenes), (Mem. i. 2, 48; PL Tim. 19, C); 

and Clitobulus his son (Xen. Phsedonides (Mem. i. 2, 48 ; PL 

Mem. i. 3, 8, ii. 6 ; CEc. 1-6 ; Phsedo, 59, C.) ; Theodotus (PL, 

Symp. 4, 10 ; Plato, Apol. 33, D., Apol. 33, E.); Epigenes (Phsedo, 

38, B. ; Phsedo, 59, B. ; ^sch. in 59, B. ; Mem. iii. 12) ; Menexenus 

Athenseus v. 220, a.); Chserephon (Phsedo, 59, B. ; Lysis, 206, D.) ; 

(Mem. i. 2, 48 ; ii. 3 ; Plato, Apol. Ctesippus, (Phsedo, Euthydemus, 

20, E.; Charm. 153, B.; Gorgias, and Lysis); Thesetetus (Thesetet. 

Aristophanes, Clouds, 1296) and Soph.PoL); Terpsion (Pl.Theset,; 

his brother Chserecrates. Also Phsedo, 59, C.) ; Charmides (Xen. 

Apollodorus (Mem. iii. 11, 17 ; Mem. iii. 7 ; 6, 14; Symp. 4, 29; 

Plato, Apol. 34, A., 38, B. ; Hellen. ii. 4, 19 ; Plato, Charm. 

Phsedo, 59, B., 117, B.; Symp.); Sym. 222, B. ; Prot. 315, A.); 

Aristodemus (Mem. i. 4 ; Plato, Grlaucon (Mem. iii. 6 ; the same 



204 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS'. 



Ckap. 
XI. 



B. Xeno- 



them appear to be spurious. Others, which are 
known to us by their titles, were, on an average 
doubtless little more than summaries of popular 
moral maxims. 1 One of the best illustrations of this 
mode of understanding and applying the doctrines 
of Socrates may be found in Xenophon. 2 

It is impossible in reading his works not to be 
struck with the purity and loftiness of his sentiments, 
with his chivalrous character, and the healthy tone 
of his mind ; but his philosophical capacity cannot be 
estimated at a very high rate. His description of 
Socrates is full of admiration for the greatness of his 
character ; but he has only imperfectly understood his 



individual to whom Diog. ii. 
124, attributes nine genuine and 
thirty-two spurious dialogues) ; 
Cleombrotus (Phsed. 59, C. ; per- 
haps the same who is said by 
Callim. in Cic. Tusc. i. 34, 84, to 
have committed suicide, probably 
not from misunderstanding the ex- 
hortation to a philosophic death, 
but from shame because his con- 
duct was blamed in the Phpedo). 
Diodorus (Mem. ii. 10) ; Critias 
and Alcibiades in their younger 
years, (Mem. i. 2, 12); not to 
mention others who were ac- 
quainted with Socrates, but did 
not join his way of thinking, such 
as Phsedrus, Callias, the younger 
Pericles, Aristarchus, Eutherus, 
and many others. 

1 Crito and G-laucon. 

2 Xenophon, the son of G-ryllus, 
born probably 444 or 445 B.C., 
is said to have been previously 
acquainted with Socrates by 
Diog. ii. 48, whose account does 
not in other respects appear very 



trustworthy. Two years before 
the death of Socrates he joined 
the army of the younger Cyrus, 
and conducted and afterwards 
described its glorious retreat. 
Banished for this from Athens, 
he served at Sparta for several 
years, and then took up his abode 
at Scillus, near Elis. After- 
wards he was driven thence, 
371 b.c, and settled at Corinth; 
where he died, 355 B.C. His 
writings, which are distinguished 
for purity and grace of language, 
and the unadorned clearness of 
the description, appear to have 
been preserved entire. The Apo- 
logy, however, the Agesilaus, and 
the treatise on the Athenian con- 
stitution can hardly be genuine, 
and the books on hunting, and 
the Spartan constitution are sus- 
pected. Por his life and writings 
consult Diog. ii. 48 ; Kriiger, De 
Xenoph. Yita, Halle, 1832, and 
Eanke, De Xenoph. Vita et 
Scriptis, Berlin, 1851. 



XENOPHOX. 205 

philosophical merit and his intellectual labours. Not Chap. 
only does he share the narrowness of the point of ' 

view taken by Socrates — as for instance when he 
quotes the derogatory opinions of his master about 
natural science in proof of his piety and intelligence, 1 
— but he misunderstands the true greatness of the 
discussions he reports. The formation of concep- 
tions, in which lies the germ of the whole teaching 
of Socrates, is only mentioned by him when he wishes 
to prove the merits of his teacher as shown by his 
care for the culture of his friends. 2 All that he 
gathers from Socrates' peculiar method of pursuing 
knowledge, and his habit of asking every one about 
his mode of life, is that he tried to make himself useful 
to all, 3 not excluding artisans or persons in any rank 
of life whatsoever. It is also difficult to discover 
from his account the import of those sayings relative 
to virtue, which are at the bottom of all the Socratic 
Ethics. We may hence conclude that their import 
was far from being understood by Xenophon himself. 4 
Many echoes and reminiscences of the Socratic mode of 
teaching are to be found in his independent writings, 
but he is too much occupied with practical applications 
of them to engage in any really scientific researches. 
He describes the catechetical mode of teaching, 5 
in which he seems to have been somewhat skilled; 
but his dialogues are not, like those of the genuine 
Socratic type, directed to the formation of conceptions. 

1 3Iem. i. 1, 11 ; iv. 7. 4 Mem. iii. 9. 

2 Ibid. iv. 6. 5 (Ec. 19, 14. 

3 Ibid. iii. 10, 1 ; v. 1. 



206 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. He recommends knowledge of self, 1 but he takes 
XI 

' knowledge in its popular sense, meaning that no one 

ought to attempt what is beyond his powers. He 

insists on piety, self-restraint, 2 and so forth, but he 

appears not to hold the maxim of Socrates, 3 that all 

these virtues consist in knowledge. Following the 

method used by Socrates, he proves that every one is 

ready to submit to the wise, 4 that right and law are 

synonymous terms, 5 and that the rich are not more 

happy than the poor. 6 He repeats what Socrates had 

said about truth and error, 7 but not without pointing 

out that this principle is liable to be abused. With 

the same decision as his master, he declares against the 

sensual and unnatural abuses of love ; 8 and, following 

out his train of thought, he requires that woman 

should have a recognised social position, and that 

great attention should be devoted to her culture. 9 On 

the knowledge and omnipotence of the Grods, on their 

care for mankind, on the blessing consequent upon 

piety, 10 he expresses himself with warmth; but at 

the same time in regard to predictions and sacrifices 

he fully shares the belief of his nation. 11 He makes 

Cyrus express the hope of a life after death, and con- 

1 Cyrop. vii. 2, 20. 29 ; Mem. i. 6, 4. 

2 Ibid. viii. 1, 23. 7 Cyrop. i. 6, 31 ; Mem. iv. 2, 

3 Compare the conversation 13. 

between Cyrus and Tigranes, Cy- 8 Symp. 8, 7. 
rop. iii. 1, 16, and Mem. i. 2, 19, 9 (Ec. 3, 13. 
in which, the ordinary view is 10 Symp. 4, 46 ; Cyrop. i. 6, 2. 
taken rather than the view of n Compare amongst other pas- 
Socrates, although the language sages, Cyrop. i. 6, 2 ; 23 ; 44 : (Ec. 
allows the latter. 5, 19; 7, 7; 11, 8; Cyrop. i. 6, 

4 Cvrop. i. 6, 21. 23, agrees fully with Mem. i. 1, 

5 Ibid. i. 3, 17. 6. 
fi Ibid. viii. 3, 40; Sym. 4, 



XI. 



XENOPHON. 207 

firms his view by several considerations, but yet he Chap. 
does not utter the belief with full assurance. He re- 
minds us that the soul is invisible ; that vengeance 
surely comes on the murderers of the innocent, and 
that honour is due to the dead. He cannot believe 
that the soul which gives life to the body should be 
mortal, or that reason should not survive in greater 
purity after its separation from the body, seeing that 
prophesying in sleep is an indication of the separate 
life of the soul. 1 In all these passages we may dis- 
cern the faithful and thoughtful follower of Socrates, 
but there is not a trace of original thought. Indeed 
it is doubtful whether the few passages in which 
Xenophon seems to have somewhat amplified the 
teaching of his master, ought not really to be attri- 
buted to Socrates. 

His larger work on politics, the Cyropsedeia, is, as a 
book of political philosophy, unimportant. He pro- 
poses there to carry out the Socratic idea of a ruler 
who understands his business, 2 and who devotes the 
same care to his people that a shepherd does to his 
flock ; 3 but what he really gives, is a description of a 
valiant and prudent general, 4 of an upright man, and 
of a chivalrous conqueror. There is not a single at- 
tempt made to mark out more clearly the province of 
government, to give a higher meaning to the state, or 
to ensure its destiny by fixed institutions. The de- 



1 Cyrop. viii. 7, 17. duties in language similar to 

2 Ibid. i. 1, 3. Mem. iii. 1. Perhaps Xenophon 

3 Ibid. viii. 2, 14; Mem. i. 2, 32. may be the nameless friend in 

4 Ibid. 6, 12, speaks of these this passage. 



208 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. mand for a careful education 1 may reveal the follower 
of Socrates, but there is so little reference in that 



education to knowledge, 2 that it might be far sooner 
taken for a Spartan than for a Socratic education. 
Every thing centres in the person of the prince. The 

state is an Asiatic kingdom. The highest aim to 

— ' _> 

which all its institutions tend, 3 is the strength and 
wealth of its sovereign and the aristocracy. And 
even this view is very imperfectly carried out, and 
many important departments of government are alto- 
gether omitted. 4 His smaller treatise on family life 
is more successful. It bears witness to an intelli- 
gent mind and a benevolent heart, which shows itself 
in particular in the position assigned to woman 5 and 
in the treatment of slaves. 6 But it makes no preten- 
sions to be a philosophical treatise, though it may con- 
tain many Socratic thoughts. 7 The history of philo- 
sophy can therefore gain but little from Xenophon. 

pi aj»_ 

c h^~ _Eschines 8 would appear to have treated the teach- 



1 Cyrop. i. 2, 2 ; viii. 8, 13 ; vii. also the expressions already quoted 
5, 72. about woman. 

2 A weak echo of the principle 8 iEschines, son of Lysanias, 
of Socrates is found i. 4, 3. (Plato, Apol. 33 E. (against whom 

3 Compare viii. 1, The treaty Diog. ii. 60, can have no weight). 
between Cyrus and the Persians, is praised for his adherence to 
viii. 5, 24, has for its object, Socrates (Diog. ii. 31 ; Senec. 
security by the advantages of Benef. i. 8). Plato mentions him 
government. (Phsedo, 59, R. ), among those who 

4 Compare the spirited remarks were present at the death of 
of Mohl, G-esch. d. Staatswissen- Socrates. Idomeneus however, 
sehaft, i. 204. 5 C. 3, 13. (Diog. ii. 60, 35 ; iii. 36), trans- 

6 12, 3; 14, 9 ; c. 21 ; 7, 37 ; 41. ferred to him the part played 

7 The maxim that nothing is by Crito in Plato, probably out of 
good of which the right use is spite to Plato. We afterwards 
not understood, belongs here, and encounter him in the company of 



SIMMIAS AXJD CUBES. 



209 



ing of Socrates in the same way. The writings of Chap. 
this disciple/ are reckoned among the best models _ 
of Attic prose. 2 By some these writings are preferred 
to those of Xenophon. 3 It is moreover asserted that 
they reproduce the spirit of Socrates with wonderful 
fidelity, 4 and the few fragments which are preserved 
of them confirm these statements. But they appear 
to have been singularly poor in real philosophic 
thought. Their strength consisted far more in the 
grace and elegance of their language than in an in- 
dependent treatment of the Socratic teaching. 

The two Thebans, Simmias 5 and Cebes, 6 would D. Sim- 
seem to have been true philosophers ; they were both Ceb '^ 
pupils of Philolaus, 7 and are described by Plato 8 as 



the vouns:er Dionvsius (Diog. ii. 
61; 63; Plat. Adul. et Am. c. 
26; Philost. v. Apollon. i. 35; 

Lucian, Paras, c. 32). to whom he 
had been recommended by Plato, 
according to Plutarch, by An- 
stippus according to Diogenes. 
Aristippus appears as his friend 
in Diog! ii. 82 : Pint. Coh. Ira, 14. 
Poor to begin with (Diog. ii. 34. 
62) he was still poor in after-life 
on his return to Athens. He did 
not venture it is said to found 
a school, but delivered a few 
speeches and treatises for money 
(^Diog. ii. 62). Whether the dirty 
stories are true which Lysias in 
Athen. xiii. 611, lays to his 
charge, is an open question. His 
writings according to Athen. 
would lead us to expect an 
honourable man. The time of 
his death is not known. 

1 According to Diog. ii. 61, 
64. Plirynichus in Phot. Biblio- 
thek, these were considered to 



be genuine. The scanty remains 
of them have been collected by 
Hermann, De ^schin. Socr. Eeli- 
quiis. G-ott. 1850. 

2 Longin. irepl 6vp4$. ; Ehet. 
G-r. ix. 559. 

5 Phrynich. in Phot. Cod. 61 ; 
Hermogenes, Form. Orat. ii. 3 ; 
Ehet. Gr. iii. 394. He is said to 
have imitated Gforgias in speak- 
ing, Diog. ii. 63. 

4 Aristid. Or. xlv. p. 35. Hence 
the story (Diog. ii. 60, 62 ; Athen. 
xiii. 611), that his speeches had 
been composed by Socrates, and 
given to him by Xanthippe. 
Diog. ii. 47 ranks him among 
the most distinguished followers 
of Socrates. 

5 Xen. Mem. i. 2, 48 ; iii. 11, 
17 ; Plato, Phsedo, 59, C, 63 A. 

6 Mem. : Phaedo, 59. C, 60, C. 

7 Phsedo, 61. D. 

8 It is said (Phaedo, 242. B.), 
that Simmias. delivered and com- 
posed more philosophical speeches 



210 



THE SO CR A TIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XI. 



thoughtful men; but nothing certain is known of 
their opinions or their logical affinities. The writings 
attributed to them 1 were rejected even byPansetius 2 
as far as he knew them, and the single one extant, 
known as the ' Mirror' of Cebes, is certainly spu- 
rious. 3 Still less can any dependence be placed 
on the writings which were circulated at a later time 
under the name of the shoemaker Simon. 4 He is 
probably altogether an imaginary person. 5 

In addition to Plato, four founders of Socratic 
schools are known to us : Euclid, Phsedo, Antisthenes, 
and Aristippus. The two former are much alike, but 
the others followed courses peculiar to themselves. 



than any one else. In the Phaedo, 
85, C, he is made to utter the 
maxim, that every question should 
be pursued as far as possible. 
Of Cebes, it is said (Phsedo, 63, 
A., 77, A.), that he could always 
raise objections, and was the 
most inveterate doubter; and the 
part which he and Simmias play 
in the Phsedo. corresponds with 
this description. 

1 Diog. ii. 124, mentions twen- 
ty-three lectures of Simmias and 
three of Cebes, including the 
Mirror. 

2 Diog. ii. 64: ttclvtw fxivroi 
rwv ^(tiKpcLTLKoov ZiaXoycav Ylavai- 
rios a\7)6e?s eivcu Sokc? robs U\d- 
roovos, 'Eevocpcouros, 'AvriaOtvovs, 
Alo~xw° v ' 8i(Fra£ei 5e irept tqov 
Qaihoovos kcl\ EiwAeiSou, rovs 8e 
&AKovs avaipei iravras. 

3 In modern times there have 
been supporters of its genuine- 
ness, for instance, Bahr and 
Schweighauser ; but their assump- 
tion is refuted by two passages 



in it, one of which mentions a 
Peripatetic, and the other quotes 
a word from Plato's Laws. In 
other respects too, notwithstand- 
ing a general want of definiteness, 
traces appear of later times, e.g. 
Stoic morality and attacks on 
false culture. 

4 See Diog. ii. 122 ; Suid. 2«- 
koolttis' Epist Socrat. 12, 13; 
Plut, c. Prin. Philos. c. 1 ; Bockh, 
in Plat. Minoem. 42. 

5 What Diogenes says of him 
is unsatisfactory, and the story 
that Pericles asked to be taken 
in by him, but that he refused, 
besides being chronologically 
suspicious, is hardly likely to be 
true. Of the dialogues attri- 
buted to him a great part are 
found in writings belonging to 
other people. It is suspicious, 
that he is not mentioned by any 
ancient authority, and that both 
Plato and Xenophon should be 
silent about an old and very 
remarkable pupil of Socrates. 



THREE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 211 

Thus there arose three distinct kinds of Socratic Chap, 

XI 
Schools : the Megarian-Elean, the Cynic, and the ' 

Cyrenaic. These are all descended from Socrates, 
but are one-sided in their aims ; and since they hold 
aloof from earlier systems, they only imperfectly 
reproduce the spirit of the teaching of Socrates, and 
deviate from him and from one another in the most 
opposite directions. The highest duty of man was, 
by Socrates, placed in the knowledge of the good. 
What that good was he could not determine more 
accurately, but he was partly satisfied with a prac- 
tical view of it, and was partly restricted to a theory 
of relative pleasure. These various sides of his phi- 
losophy now diverge, and are rounded into systems. 
One party confines itself to the general burden of the 
teaching of Socrates — the abstract idea of the good. 
Others start from pleasure, making it the gauge 
of the good, and the good itself something relative. 
Again within the former class some make the theo- 
retical, others the practical treatment of the good, to 
be the main point. Thus the Socratic teaching gave 
rise to the three Schools just named, which in so far 
as they bring into prominence individual elements 
in the spirit of Socrates, revert to older lines of 
thought, long since passed in the historical develop- 
ment of philosophy. The Megarians and Cynics go 
back to the Eleatic doctrine of the One and All, 
and to the sophistry of Grorgias; the Cyrenaics to 
the negative teaching of Protagoras, and to the early 
scepticism of Heraclitus. 



p2 



212 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



CHAPTEE XII. 



THE MEGAKIAN AND THE ELEAN-EEETRIAN SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XII. 

Hie 

Megarians. 
A. History 
of the 
School. 



The founder of the Megarian school l is Euclid. 2 A 
faithful friend and admirer of Socrates, 3 but at the 
same time intimately acquainted with the Eleatic 



1 Deycks, DeMegaricorum Doc- 
trina, Bonn, 1827, whose carefnl 
work has not been added to by 
Mallet's Histoire de 1'Ecole de 
Megare, Par. 1845. More inde- 
pendent but sometimes too diffuse 
is Henne, Ecole de Megare, Par. 
1843. Eitter, TIeber die Philoso- 
phie der Meg. Schule. Hartstein, 
Ueber die Bedeutung der Meg. 
Schule fiir die Gesch. d. Meta- 
phys. Prautl, Gesch. d. Logik, 
i. 33, which enters most deeply 
into the logical teaching of the 
Megarians. 

2 Euclid's home whs Megara, 
(Plato, Thesetet. ; Phsedo, 59, C); 
that it was his birth-place is 
asserted by Cic. Acad. iv. 42, 
129 ; Strabo, ix. 1 ; Diog. ii. 106. 
The statement that he came from 
G-ela (rives in Diog.) must rest 
on a misunderstanding. Deycks 
imagines it arose from confound- 
ing him with Euclid the jester. 
Henne conjectures, but without 
sufficient reason, that he was 
educated at Gela, The time of 
his birth cannot be accurately 
determined. He was however 



probably older than Plato. This 
seems to be attested by the fact, 
that on the death of Socrates he 
served for some time as a centre 
to his disciples. The time of his 
death is also uncertain. If Stilpo 
and Pasicles were his personal 
pupils, he must have lived at 
least till 360 B.C. But very 
little is known of him. A cele- 
brated utterance of his to his 
brother, which bears witness to 
a gentle character, is quoted by 
Pint, de Ira, 14 ; Frat. Am. 18"; 
Stob. Flor. 84, 15. Diog. ii. 108, 
mentions six discourses of his. 

3 The story told by GelL, N. 
A. vi. 10, of his nightly visits to 
Athens is well known. It cannot, 
however, go for much, though not 
in itself improbable. On the 
contrary, it may be gathered from 
Plato's Thesetet. 142, C. that 
Euclid constantly visited Socrates 
from Megara, and from the 
Phsedo, 59, C. that he was present 
at his death. A further proof of 
his close connection with the fol- 
lowers of Socrates will be found 
in the fact (Diog. ii. 106 ; iii. 6) 



HISTORY OF THE MEGARIAXS. 



213 



doctrine, 1 Euclid made use of the latter, to develope 
the Socratic philosophy in a way peculiar to himself. 
He thus established a separate branch of the Socratic 
School, 2 which continued until the early part of the 
third century. 3 Ichthyas 4 is named as his pupil 
and successor, but nothing further is known of him. 5 
Of greater note was Eubulides, 6 the celebrated dia- 
lectician/ who wrote against Aristotle, 8 and who is 



Chap. 
XII. 



that Plato and other followers of 
Socrates stayed with him for a 
considerable time after the death 
of their master. He is usually 
spoken of as a disciple of Socrates, 
and has a place amongst his 
most distinguished disciples. 

1 As may be gathered from 
his system with greater certainty 
than from Cic, and Diog. When 
Euclid became acquainted with 
the Eleatic Philosophy is un- 
certain. It is most probable that 
he was under its influence before 
he came under that of Socrates, 
although the story in Diog. ii. 
30 is too uncertain to prove 
much. 

2 Called Megarian or Eristic 
or Dialectic, Diog. ii. 106. Con- 
sult Deyck about these names. 
He proves that the terms Eristic 
and Dialectic were not confined 
to the Megarian School. Com- 
pare Sextus Empiricus, who gene- 
rally understands by Dialecti- 
cians, Stoics, for instance, Pyrrh. 
ii. 146, 166, 229, 235. 

3 How early Euclid was at the 
head of a special circle of pupils, 
and whether he appeared formally 
as a Sophist, or like Socrates only 
gradually gathered about him 
men desirous to learn, we are not 
told. Perhaps the emigration of 



many followers of Socrates to 
Megara gave occasion for the 
establishment of this school, i. e. 
to the formation of a society, 
which at first moved about Euclid's 
house and person, busying itself 
with discussions. It is no where 
stated, that Plato and his friends 
removed to Megara, attracted 
by the fame of the School of 
Euclid, as Henne maintains, p. 
27. 

4 Suid. EuKAeiSrjs— Diog. ii. 
112, only makes the general re- 
mark, that he belonged to the 
School of Euclid. 

5 His name is still found in 
Diog. ii. 112; vi. 80 (Diogenes 
dedicated to him a dialogue called 
Ichthyas). Athen. viii. 335. 

8 From Miletus according to 
Diog. ii. 108. Whether he was 
the head of a school, or whether 
he was an immediate disciple of 
Euclid, we do not know : So- 
crates only says, rrjs 5 s Eu/cAei5ou 
diadoxys icri xal Eu/8. 

7 Compare Diog. ii. 108; Sext. 
Math. vii. 13. 

8 Diog. ii. 109 ; Aristocles in 
Eus. Pr. Ev. xv. 2, 5 ; Athen. viii. 
354, b. Themist. Or. xxiii. 285, c. 
From these passages it is seen 
that the attack of Eubulides on 
Aristotle was very violent, and 



214 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XII. 



mentioned as the teacher of Demosthenes. 1 Cotem- 
porary with him were Thrasymaehus 2 of Corinth, 
and Dioclides, 3 perhaps also Clinomachus. 4 Pasicles 5 
however, would appear to be younger. Apollonius 
of Cyrene, surnamed Cronus, 6 the teacher of the 
sharp-witted Diodorus Cronus, 7 was also a pupil of 
Eubulides, and another of his pupils was Euphantus, 
who is only known to us as a poet and historian. 8 The 



not free from personal abuse. 
We also hear from Athen. x. 437 
of a comedy of Eubulides. But 
he can hardly be the individual 
whose work on the Cynic Dio- 
genes is quoted by Diog. vi. 20, 
30. 

1 The fact seems pretty well 
established (although it is con- 
spicuously omitted by Plutarch 
in his life of Demosthenes), being 
not only attested by Diog. li. 108 ; 
Pseudoplut. v. Dec. Orat. viii. 
21 ; Apulei. De Mag. c. 15 ; Suid. 
ArifjLoo-dei/ris, and Phot. Cod. 265, 
but being also alluded to by the 
Comedian in Diog., who can 
hardly have spoken of a bare 
acquaintance as a disciple. 

2 According to Diog. ii. 121, a 
friend of Ichthyas, and a teacher 
of Stilpo' s. 

3 Suid. ^t'iAttoov, a pupil of 
Euclid and the teacher of Pasicles. 

4 ATmrrian (according to Diog. 
ii. 13 2), and a teacher of Stilpo's 
son Bryso, Suid. Uvppoop. Diog. 
says he was the first to write 
about predicates, sentences, and 
such like. 

5 The relations of this man 
are not clear ; Diog. vi. 89, calls 
him a pupil of Euclid, and a 
brother of the Cynic Crates, both 
of which are hardly compatible. 



Suid. ^riXiroot/ calls him a dis- 
ciple of his brother Crates and of 
Dioclides, and the teacher of 
Stilpo. 

6 Diog. ii. Ill ; Strabo, xiv. 
2, 21 ; xvii. 3, 22. 

7 Diodorus a native of Iasos 
in Caria (Diog. and Strabo ex- 
plain the name Cronus in various 
ways), belongs to the most dis- 
tinguished dialecticians of the 
Megarian School. Cic. De Fato, 6, 
12, calls him ' valens dialecticus' ; 
Sext, Math. i. 309, SxoAe/rri/cdj- 
raros ■ Sext. and Diog. ii. Ill, 
give two epigrams of Callimachus 
addressed to him. His fallacies 
and his researches into motion, 
and into hypothetical sentences, 
will be mentioned hereafter. 
Pique at a dialectical defeat in- 
flicted by Stilpo at the table of 
Ptolemy Soter, is said to have 
killed him (Diog. ; Plin. His. Nat. 
vii. 53, 18). He bequeathed his 
dialectic to his five daughters 
Clem. Al. Strom, iv. 523, A. 
Hieron. adv. Jovin. i. t. iv. 186 
see Steinhart. 

8 All we know of him is from 
Diog. ii. 110, who calls him the 
tutor of King Antigonus, and to 
Antigonus he addressed a book, 
irepl pa<ri\eias. Athen. vi. 251 
quotes an extract from the fourth 



HISTORY OF THE MEGARIAXS. 



215 



rest were thrown into the shade by Stilpo, 1 a pupil of 
Thrasymachus. His spirited lectures made him an 
object of wonder to his cotemporaries, and the crowds 
who flocked from all sides to listen to them shed a 
lustre on the Megarian school such as it had not 
hitherto enjoyed. 2 At the same time a new direction 
was imparted by him to the development of the 
Megarian doctrine. The principles of the Cynic 
School, into which Diogenes had initiated him, 3 w T ere 
united with those of his own School to such an ex- 
tentj that doubts may be felt whether Stilpo rather 

book of his history, in which if he 
has not made a gross mistake, irpA- 
tov must be read for rpirov. Calli- 
crates, also mentioned by Athe- 
naeus, is known from Diodor. xx. 
21, as a favourite of Ptolemy 
Soter. 

1 Stilpo of Megara, Diog. ii. 
113, must have lived to the end 
of the fourth century. At least 
he survived the capture of Me- 
gara by Ptolemy Lagi, and his 
defeat by Demetrius Poliorcetes, 
two events which happened 307 
and 306 b.c. respectively. On 
the former occasion, the interview 
with Diodorus Cronus may have 
happened ; for Stilpo never vi- 
sited Egypt (Diog. 115). Since 
he died at an advanced age, we 
may approximately place his birth 
in 380, and his death in 300 B.C. 
Probably we ought to place the 
date of both later, for the no- 
tices about his pupils in Diog. ii. 
113-120, Senec. Epist. 10, 1, 
lead us to believe, that his ac- 
tivity was cotemporary with 
that of Theophrastus ; and 
accordingly it cannot have 
begun long before the death of 



Chap. 
XII. 



Aristotle. Some of the pupils 
of Euclid are mentioned as his 
teachers, and (Diog. ii. 113), in 
particular Thrasymachus. Even 
Euclid himself is named by some, 
but the latter statement we can 
hardly accept as probable. His 
character, about which more wiU 
be said hereafter, is commended as 
upright, gentle, persevering, open, 
generous, and unselfish, Diog. ii. 
117; Cic. De Eato, 5,10; Pint. Vit. 
Pud. c. 18; adv. Col. 22, 1. He 
also took part in public business, 
Diog. 114. Nine of his dialogues 
are mentioned by Diog. ii. 120. 

2 Diog. ii. 113, exaggerates 
in saying, rocovrov S 5 evpeaAoyia 
Kal (rcHpHrreia. irporiye robs &AAovs, 
cco~T€ /LLitcpov Sericrai iracrav tt)v 
'EAAaSa acpopwcrav els avrov /xe- 
yapiacu. He also mentions the 
pupils, who joined him, coming 
from other philosophers, and the 
universal admiration paid to him 
at Athens and by several princes. 
It is all the more striking that 
Diog. 120 call his speeches vi/u- 

XP oi - 

3 Diog. vi. 76. 



216 



THE SOCBATIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XII. 



belongs to the Cynics or to the Megarians. 1 He would 
thus be the immediate precursor of the Stoa, in which 
two branches of the Socratic philosophy were united 
by his pupil Zeno. 2 Other Megarians, however, con- 
tinued faithful to the exclusively critical character of 
this School. Alexinus of Elis, a cotemporary of 
Stilpo, 3 but somewhat younger, is notorious for his 
captiousness ; and logical subtleties are recorded 4 



1 The proof of this will be given 
later. 

2 That Zeno was a pupil of 
Stilpo is stated by Diog. ii. 
120 ; vii. 2, 24. The same person 
is no doubt intended in Diog. ii. 
114, by Zeno the Phoenician. 
The founder of the Stoa is fre- 
quently called a Phoenician, Diog. 
vii. 15, 25, 30. In no case can 
Zeno of Sidon the pupil of Apol- 
lodorus, be thought of, who was 
himself a pupil of Epicurus, and 
who, according to Diog. x. 25, vii. 
35, continued faithful to Epicu- 
reanism. It is more likely that 
Zeno the Sidonian is meant, whom 
Diog. vii. 38, reckons among the 
pupils of Socrates. 

3 Diog. ii. 109, speaks of him 
as a pupil of Eubulides (/mera^v 
fie olWwv ovtoovttjs Evfiov\idov $ia- 
Boxfjs 'AXet^vos iyevero 'HAetos). 
The age in which he lived can 
be approximately determined by 
his disputes with Stilpo (Plut. 
Vit. Pud. c. 18), with Mene- 
demus (Diog. ii. 135), and with 
Zeno, whose strongest opponent 
he was, Diog. ii. 109 ; Sext. 
Math. ix. 108 ; Plut. Comm. Not. 
10, 3. He must have been 
younger than Stilpo, and have 
nourished in the first ten years 
of the third century. His love of 



contention and dispute gained for 
him the derisive epithet *EAey£?- 
vos, Diog. Plut. Vit, Pud. 18. 
We also learn from Hermippus 
in Diog. that he retired to Olyin- 
pia in his last years, in order to 
establish a new school there. 
Since this place of abode did not 
suit his pupils, he alone remained 
there, but soon died of an injury. 
For his writings consult Diog. ii. 
110; vii. 163 f Athen. xv. 696. 

4 Diog. vii. 16, a passage which 
does not appear so ambiguous 
as Eitter would have it, particu- 
larly when the subsequent ac- 
counts are taken into considera- 
tion. Diog. relates that Zeno of 
Cittium was fond of his society ; 
Clement, Stromat. iv. 523, and 
Jerome adv. Jo v. i., quote from 
his ' 3Ienexenus,' the passage 
already given, on the daughters 
of Diodorus, of whom he must 
then have spoken in terms of 
praise. It is a clear mistake on 
the part of Jerome to make him 
the teacher of Cameades. Still 
stranger is Mallet's mistake, con- 
founding the disputant Philo 
with Philo of Larissa, the founder 
of the fourth Academy. The lat- 
ter was his junior by 150 to 200 
years. Nor can Philo be reck- 
oned among the Stoics, although 



TEACHING OF THE MEGARIANS. 



217 



of Philo, the pupil of Diodorus. 1 The verbal refine- Chap. 

. XII 
ments of the Megarians gave rise to Pyrrho's philo- 1 

sophy of doubt, in the same way that the critical 

subtleties of the Eleatics led to the sophistical doubts 

of Gorgias. The connecting links were Pyrrho, who 

studied under Stilpo's son Bryso, 2 and Timon, who 

is said to have been under Stilpo himself. 3 

The Megarian philosophy is only partially known B. Their 

to us from the fragmentary notices of the ancients ; oc rme ' 

and frequently it is impossible to decide whether 

their statements refer to the founder and the older 

members, or only to the later followers of the School. 

It is all the more satisfactory to be able to learn 

a little more about the Megarians from Plato, 4 by 



Fabricius and Prautl have so re- 
garded him. 

1 Diog. vii. 191, 194, mentions 
Philo's writings irepi a-q^acricov, 
and irepl rpoirwv, against which 
Chrysippus wrote ; and without 
doubt he means this Philo. To 
the same individual must be re- 
ferred what Cic. Acad. ii. 47, 
143, and Sext, Math. viii. 113, 
Pyrrh. ii. 110, say about his 
view of hypothetical sentences 
being a different one from that 
of Diodorus. By Diog. and 
Clement he is surnamed 6 Bia- 
Xcktikos. 

2 Diog. ix. 61; Suid. Tlvppw 
Bryso himself, or Apvvow, as he 
also is called by Diog., is said to 
have studied under Clinomachus. 
But this statement is not with- 
out its difficulties. Allowing it 
to be possible that Clinomachus 
and not Stilpo instructed Bryso, 
or that he enjoyed the instruction 



of both, the chronology is still 
troublesome. For how can Pyr- 
rho, before Alexander's expedi- 
tion to Asia, have studied under 
the son of a man, whose own pro- 
fessional career probably comes 
after that expedition? It seems 
as though the relation of Pyrrho 
to Bryso as pupil and teacher 
were an imaginary combination, 
designed to connect the school of 
Pyrrho with the Megarian ; or per- 
haps Bryso, the teacher of Pyrrho, 
has been wrongly made to be the 
son of this Stilpo. Suid. ScoKpctr. 
calls Bryso, the teacher of Pyrrho, 
a pupil of Socrates, or a pupil of 
Euclid according to some. 

3 Diog. ix. 109. 

4 Soph. 242, B. Plato denned 
Sophistry to be the art of decep- 
tion. The difficulty immediately 
arises, that deception is only then 
possible, when not-being, to which 
all deception refers, has a certain 



218 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XII. 



the aid of a passage in which Schleiermacher 1 first re- 
cognised Megarian views, and which, in common with 
most writers, 2 we feel justified in applying to them. 3 



kind of being. It may then be 
asked, how is the being of the 
not-being possible ? To answer 
this, Plato reviews various opi- 
nions about being. In the first 
place he examines the two most 
opposite statements, that being is 
the many, and that it is the one, 
and after having shown that 
neither a manifoldness of origi- 
nal substances without a sub- 
stratum of unity, nor the Eleatic 
unity of all excluding the many, 
can be admitted, he continues: 
rovs fiev roivvv oiaKpifSoXoyovfxi- 

VOVS OVTOS T6 TT€pL KO.I fJL$} TTOLPTCIS 

(ieu ou OLeAr^AvOa/xej/, Ofxoos oh 
Ikclvcos ex/rw * rovs 5e clWws 
Aeyovras av Qeareov. These are 
again divided into classes, those 
who only allow reality to what 
is material, and others who are 
called ol roov clow <j)i\oL. Of 
the latter it is stated 246, B. : roi- 
yapovv ol irpbs abrovs (the ma- 
terialists) ajjL(p!GfiriTovvTes fxaAa 
evAafioos frvoodev e£ aopdrov iroQev 
a/jLvi/ovrai uorjrd arret, kcu acrdo/jLara 
effiri fiiafyfievoi tV aAr\Qiv7]v ov- 
aiav elvai ' rot. oe iKeivcav au/xara 
kcu tV \eyofji4v7iv i>7r' avr&p aAi}- 
Oeiav Kara (T/xiKpa oiaQpavovres iv 
toTs Aoyois yeveav &ut' ovcias 
cpepo/JLei/rju riva irpocrayopevovcnv. 

1 Platon's Werke, ii. 2. 

2 Ast, Platon's Lebenu. Schrei- 
ben, 201 ; Deycks, 37 ; Heindorf 
on Soph. 246, B. ; Brandis, ii. a., 
114; Hermann, Plat. 339; Stall- 
bauin, Plat. Parm. 60 ; Steinhart, 
Allg. Encyk. i. 29, 53 ; Platon's 
Werke, iii. 204, 554 ; Henne, 
Ecole de Megare, 84-158 ; Prautl, 



G-esch. d. Log. i. 37. Against 
Schleiermacher are Hitter, Peter- 
sen, and Mallet. Henne refers the 
description in Thesetet. 185, C. 
of the formation of conceptions, 
to the Megarians, on the ground 
that it does not agree with Plato's 
own method. But it would seem 
that he is wrong in doing so, 
since we have no reason to think 
of others besides Plato and So- 
crates. Just as little may the 
passage in Parm. 131, B. be re- 
ferred to the Megarians, as has 
been done by Schleiermacher, PI. 
Werke, i. 2, 409, and Deycks, p. 
42. The question whether things 
participate in Ideas, is one which 
the Megarians did not examine, 
and it is widely remote from the 
view discussed in the Sophistes. 
3 The following are the rea- 
sons. It is clear and generally 
allowed that Plato's description 
is too minute to be without re- 
ference to some philosophic School 
then existing. There is also de- 
finite reference to a Socratic School 
in the passage where an opinion is 
attributed to certain philosophers, 
to the effect that true existence 
only belongs to immaterial things. 
A philosophy of conceptions was 
unknown before the time of So- 
crates, and the description agrees 
with no one of the pre-Socratic 
School s . The philosophers of con- 
ceptions are distinguished from 
the Eleatics, and are manifestly 
quite different from them. Still 
less can the Pythagoreans be 
thought of, as Mallet has done ; 
for they had neither a philosophy 



MEGARIANS.— BEING AND BECOMING. 



219 



By making use of the evidence of Plato, and by con- Chip. 

sidering the internal connection of their indivi- '__ 

dual theories, we hope to construct a picture of the 
Megarian doctrine, which shall, in the main, faith- 
fully represent the facts upon which it has been con- 
structed. 

The starting-point of the Megarian philosophy ( a ) Con- 
must be looked for in the search for a knowledge of fP twn °f 

° being and 

conceptions which Socrates had insisted on. With becoming. 



of conceptions, nor did they in- 
dulge in those subtle arguments 
with their opponents, which Plato 
attributes to these philosophers. 
The statement of Plato, 246, C, 
cannot be quoted to prove the 
contrary. Speaking there of the 
dispute between the idealists and 
the materialists he says that: 
4v /jLeccp Se irepl ravra dirAeros 
6fJL(pOT€pccu f^dxv Tis del ^vvecTTT]- 
K€u. This does not mean that 
this dispute has always existed, 
but that it was as old as the 
Schools themselves, or that, every 
time the point was touched upon, 
a violent altercation ensued be- 
tween the parties. We are not 
obliged by this statement to refer 
this view to an earlier period 
than that of Socrates. And among 
the Socratic Schools there is none 
to which it can be attributed 
with so much probability as to the 
Megarian. To think that the pas- 
sage refers to Plato (as Socher, 
Plat. Schriften, 265, does)— to 
whom the description does not 
properly apply — would only be 
possible by considering the So- 
phistes to be a spurious dialogue, 
as Socher really does. On the 
other hand it cannot be imagined, 
(as Bitter would have it) that a 



School with a developed theory 
and a great importance for that 
time, should have remained un- 
known to us. We shall also 
find that all that Plato tells us 
about the philosophers of concep- 
tions agrees with what we other- 
wise know of the Megarians ; that 
many of his statements (the denial 
of motion, and the critical explain- 
ing away of the corporeal) depict 
most tellingly the well-known 
peculiarity of this School ; whilst 
others aptly supply what is other- 
wise unknown. It is, however, 
quite a mistake to assert, that 
Plato would not have spoken 
of the Megarians simply as d\\ws 
\4yovT6s. Certainly he would not 
have spoken of the 'friends of 
ideas,' with whom he had to do, 
no matter who they may have 
been, in a derogatory way ; for he 
always treats them with respect, 
but dXXus \4youT€s may be taken 
literally for ' those who speak dif- 
ferently,' with whom all does not 
turn, as with the Eleatics, upon 
the antithesis of being and not- 
being. This antithesis is not in- 
sisted on by these philosophers of 
ideas, but with them the distinc- 
tion between being and becoming 
is the most important. 



220 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. this Euclid united the Eleatic doctrine of a differ- 

XII 

^ ence between the knowledge derived from the senses 

and the knowledge derived from the reason. Be-' 
lieving that the difference between these two kinds 
of knowledge depended far more on the objects than 
on the form of knowledge, he arrived at the convic- 
tion that the senses show us what is capable of change 
and what comes into being, and that the mind alone 
supplies us with the knowledge of what is unchange- 
able and really exists. 1 He stood, therefore, in 
general, on the same footing as Plato, and it is 
possible that this view was arrived at by both phi- 
losophers simultaneously in their intellectual inter- 
course, and that Euclid was indebted to Plato for 
Heraclitus' view of a world of the senses. 

Socrates made the immediate business of the mind 
to be the acquisition of knowledge of conceptions, 
conceptions, according to him, representing the part 
of a thing which never changes. But in Euclid's view 
not material things, but only immaterial groups of 
things admit of true being. 2 Stilpo expressed the 
same view, when he refused to allow the general 
conception to apply to individual things, because the 
general conception implies something quite different 

1 Plato, 248, A. : Teveo-iv, rrjv de?v ras fx\v al<rdfj(r€is koI <pav- 

8e ovcriav X^P^ 7rou bieXofxej/oL racr ids KarajSaAAeij/, avrcp oh \xovov 

Key ere; tf yap; — Nal. — Kcu o-Qo/xaTi r$ Koycp Tnareveiy. 
fxiv 7/juas 761/eVei 5i' cuVfl-rj trews ' l In the passage of the Soph. 

KoivoivCiv, oia. KoyiafJiov 5e ipvxfi 246, B., the words ra be iKeivccp 

jrpbs tt}v ovrccs ovo~iav, *r\v aei Kara, ado/jcara must not be taken to 

ravra oxravrccs tx* LV <P aT *-> yevsaiv mean ' the bodies of those con- 

Se aWore aWoos. For this rea- ceptions,' e'tb-q aa-cofiara, but ' the 

son Aristoc. in Eus. Pr. Ev. xiv. bodies of the materialists,' in 

17. 1, says of the 3Iegarians and which they look for all real 

Eleatics together: ofovrai yap being. 



MEGARIANS.— BEING AND BECOMING. 



221 



from every individual thing, which was existing long 
before. 1 In this respect the Megarians again agree 
with Plato. 2 But in the sense of living spiritual forces 
— for as such Plato regarded his conceptional groups 
— conceptions were rejected by Euclid, following in 
the steps of Parmenides, who denied every kind of 
motion to being. By Parmenides, action and passion 
were reduced to the sphere of the becoming. Being, 
he asserted, could neither admit of action, of passion, 
nor even of motion. 3 

Connected with this denial of the becoming is the 
assertion, probably belonging to Euclid, and cer- 



Chap. 
XII. 



1 Diog. ii. 119, says of him: eA.6- 
ye, rbv Xeyoura &v&pa>Trov elvai /jltj- 
Zepa (in -which we suggest tlirelv 
instead of €hai) y ovrc ^ap rovde 
Xeyeiv ovre rovBe. ri yap /xaXXou 
tov$€ t) r6vdc ; ovre apa rovds. 
kol\ iraXiv ■ rb Xax^vov ovk icrn rb 

d€lKVV/JL€VOV. X6.XO.V0V fJL€V yap T\V 

irpb /jLvpiccv irwv ■ ovk apa iffrl 
rovro Kax avov ' Diogenes intro- 
duces this with the remark: Zzivbs 
5e ayav kv iv rots ipicrriKo7<i avypet 
Ka\ ra €i577, and it would in itself 
be possible, that Stilpo and others 
had brought their hostility to 
general conceptions, and especi- 
ally to the Platonic ideas, from 
the Cynic School. But the above 
examples are not directed against 
the reality of groups expressed 
by a general conception, but 
against the reality of particular 
things. Stilpo denies that the 
individual is a man, because the 
expression man means something 
universal and different from any 
particular man. He denies that 
what is shown to him is cabbage, 
because there was cabbage 10,000 
years ago ; in other words, be- 
cause the genera] conception of 



cabbage means something un- 
changeable, not something which 
has come into being. "VVe may 
then believe with Hegel, G-esch. 
d. Phil. ii. 123, and Stallbaum, 
Plat. Parm. 65, that either Dio- 
genes or his authority must have 
made some mistake here. 

2 Probably expressions like ^Hi 
quoque multa in Platone,' said of 
the Megarians by Cic. Acad. iv. 
42, 129, refers to such points of 
similarity. 

3 Plato, Soph. 248, C: X4y»v- 

(TlV, OTL yeV€(T€l fj.lv (ieT€(7Tl rov 

Trdo~xew kb.\ toi€7v Bvvdfj.€cas, irpbs 
8e ovaiav rovrcov ovSerepov rr\v 
Bvvajj.iv apfjLOTTeiv (pao~iv. It is 
accordingly afterwards repeat- 
edly stated as their view : \rb 
iravrsXas hv~\ clkIvtitdv kerbs ehai. 
olkivtjtov rb irapdirav kcrrdvai, and 
in opposition to this view Plato re- 
quires : kol rb klvov/j.€vov 5r/ Ka\ 
Kivqciv <Tvyx<>>pT)r€ov ws our a .... 
jurJTe rcov %v 7) ko\ iroXKa 6^77 Ae- 
yovrcov rb Trap icrriKOS a7ro5e^e- 
o~9ai. — Aristocl. in Ens. Pr. Ev. 
xiv. 17, 1. The proofs by which 
the Megarians denied motion will 
be described hereafter. 



222 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. tainly coming from his school, that capacity does 
' not exist beyond the time of its exercise, in short, 



Good. 



that what is actual is alone possible. 1 What is 
simply possible would be a something, which at the 
same time is not. It would be the very contradiction 
which Parmenides thought that he discovered in the 
becoming, and the change from being possible to 
being actual would be one of those changes which 
Euclid could not harmonise with the conception 
of being. 2 In short, what is immaterial and un- 
changeable is alone allowed by him to be actual, and 
is alone admitted to be the object of science. 
(b) The The highest object of knowledge had been de- 

scribed by Socrates as the good. In this he was 
followed by Euclid. 3 But in regarding the highest 

1 Arist. Metaph. ix. 3 : elcrl 5e 8iWr0cu, ivepyelv, do not establish 
rives ol (paaiu, olov oi MeyapLKol, a great deal. Aristotle often ex- 
OTQ.V ei/epyi] [ihvov dvvaadcu, c 6rav pressed the statements of others 
Se fA$) iuipyfj ov SvpacrOai. olov in his own terminology. On the 
rhv {XT) oLKo^ofxovvra ov huvacrOai other hand a too great impor- 
oIko$oijl6?i/, a\\a rbu olKo^ofxovvra tance for the system of Aristotle 
f 6rav olKoSofjLf) • dfjioicos 8e kclI iirl must not be attached to the Me- 
toov &\\wv. In refuting this, garian doctrine already quoted,' 
Aristotle observes that it would even if it comes from Euclid, 
make all motion and becoming It is only a peculiar way of un- 
impossible, which was just what derstanding the Eleatic doctrine 
the Megarians wanted. Further against becoming and motion, 
particulars on this point will 3 That his assertions about 
be quoted from Diodorus in the the good should have nothing to 
sequel. The passage in the So- do with the Socratic knowledge 
phistes, 248, C., which Henne (Hermann, Gres. Abhandlung, 242) 
connects with that of Aristotle, could only be accepted on the 
refers to something different. supposition that that knowledge 

2 Hartenstein, p. 205, is of was not knowledge about the 
opinion that the above statement good, and that Euclid was not a 
is made in direct contradiction pupil of Socrates. Nor can it 
to Aristotle. It would in this be readily conceded that a purely 
case belong to Eubulides. But Eleatic philosopher, if he had only 
the Aristotelian technical terms moved in an ethical sphere of 



MEGARIANS.—THE GOOD. 223 

object of knowledge as essentially real — a consistent Chap. 

course from his point of view — Euclid transferred to !_ 

the good all the attributes which Parmenides had 
assigned to real being. There is only one real good, 
unchangeable, and ever the same, of which our 
highest conceptions are only different names. Whether 
we speak of God, or of Intelligence, or of Keason, 
we always mean one and the same thing, the (rood. 1 
Thus the moral goal, as Socrates had already shown, 
is one — the knowledge of the Good, — and if we speak 
of many virtues, all these are names of one and 
the same thing. 2 

But what is the relation of other things to 
this one Good ? Even Euclid, as accounts tell us, 
denied any existence to what is not good ; 3 from 
which it follows immediately, that besides the Good 
nothing is real. This statement is attributed to 

ideas, would have treated this iroXkas elcrrjyev, ws 6 Zijucou, ovre 

part of philosophy in the same fxiav iroWols bv6fxa(Ti KaAov/j.4j/7)v, 

way as Euclid. As long as wj ol MeyapiKoi. That this one 

he remained a purely Eleatic virtue was the knowledge of the 

philosopher, he could not have good, appears not only from the 

taken this ethical direction and internal connection of the system 

have placed the conception of and its external relation to So- 

the good at the head of his crates, but also from Cicero and 

system. others, who assert : a Menedemo 

1 Cic. Acad. iv. 42, 129 : autem . . . Eretriaci appellati; 
Megarici qui id bonum solum quorum omne bonum in mente 
esse dieebant, quod esset unum positum et mentis acie, qua 
et simile et idem semper [olov, verum cerneretur. Illi (the Me- 
e 6p.oLov tclvtov). Diog. ii. 106, garians) similia, sed, opinor, ex- 
says of Euclid : ovros ev to dyaBbv plieata uberius et ornatius. Conf. 
d,TT6(paiv€T0 iro\\o7s ovouacri kcl\ov- Plato, Rep. vi. 505, B., in which 
/j.€vov ore fiev yap <\>p6vT\aiv, ore Antisthenes is mentioned in ad- 
5e Qeov, koX aWore vovv k<x\ rd dition to Euclid. 

\onrd. 7 Diog : ra 5e avrLKei/uieva r<f 

2 Diog. vii. 161, says of the dyadu b.vr\pzi fxr] tlvai cpdcKccy. 
Stoic Aristo : dpsrds r ovre 



224 THE SOCBATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap, the later Megarian School. 1 But it is difficult to 



XII. 



see how the existence of many conceptions, all of 
which are supposed to be real, can be asserted 
at the same time with the one Good. The plea that 
these conceptions are only different names for the 
Good, might, it is true, be urged. 2 It is more pro- 
bable that the Megarians spoke of a manifoldness of 
conceptions, when contrasting conceptions more im- 
mediately with objects of sense, and that the idea 
of a plurality of conceptions belongs to the time in 
which their system was being expanded on the basis 
of this contrast. 3 At a later period they appear to 
have used the manifoldness of conceptions only for 
the purpose of attacking popular notions, but other- 
wise to have kept this aspect in the background, and to 
have confined themselves exclusively to the essential 
oneness of being and the Good. 4 Inconsistent, no 
doubt, they were ; but we can understand how they 
became involved in this inconsistency, by gradually, 
but logically, developing the Socratic theory of con- 

1 Arist. inEus. Pr. Ev. xiv. 17, Kealists, not Nominalists. Not 
1 : odev 7)£iovv ovroi ye [ol irepi even Stilpo can, according to the 
^rix-Kcova koX tovs MeyapiKovs] rb above, be called a Nominalist, 
hv iu elvai kclI rb /jlt] 'by erepov besides Vvirich, he had absorbed 
€?vcu, /iiTjdk yevvaadai ri firjSe too much of the Cynic doctrines 
(pOeipeadat. jU7]5e mvitaQai roira- for us to be able to form from 
pdirav. Arist. Metaph. xiv. 4, him any conclusion about the 
refers to Plato, and can hardly original Megarian views. 

be applied to the Megarians. 3 Plato, at least in the passage 

2 Prautl's view that the con- before quoted, does not mention 
ceptions of the Megarians must a good which is one, but on the 
invariably have a nominalistic contrary, he characterises his 
meaning, does not agree with the philosophers of conceptions as 
statements of Plato. If the differing from the Eleatics in 
Megarians declared conceptions assuming many conceptions, 
and conceptions alone to be d\r}- 4 -Comp. what will be subse- 
Qiv)) oixria, surely they were quently said of Stilpo. 



MEGAEIAN CAPTIOUSNESS. 225 

ceptions to the abstract doctrine of the Eleatic Chap. 
One. 1 



In proportion, however, to the sharpness of the c. Eristic. 
contrast which they presented to the current mode 
of thought, became the necessity of fortifying their 
own position against assault. To do this they had 
only to follow the example of the Eleatics. But it 
was no easy matter to prove the soundness of their 
position directly, as Parmenides had done. More 
brilliant results might be expected, if their opponents' 
ground was assailed by the criticism of Zeno and 
Grorgias. The founder of the School had undoubtedly 
from the first appropriated the Eleatic doctrine in 
this its critical function — for it was by the argu- 
ments of Zeno and the Sophists that the attention 
of Greece was first drawn to logical criticism ; — and 
criticism was the instrument which the Megarians 
adopted with such striking zeal, that the whole school 
thence derived its name. We are assured by Dio- 
genes, 2 that it was the practice even in the time of 

1 Henne tries to avoid the ordinate distinction. But it is 

difficulty in another way. The quite possible that the Socratic 

Megarians, he believes, attributed conceptions may gradually have 

being to each particular idea, in been lost in the Eleatic unity, 
as far as it was a unity, and 2 ii. 107 : reus re anrolei^ffiv 

various conceptions were used by iviararo ov Kara A^/z/xara dAAa 

them to express various kinds of kclt iirKpopdu. Since in Stoical 

the good. But this very point terminology — which we are of 

— the being of various kinds of course not justified in ascribing 

good — was what the Megarians to Euclid on the strength of this 

denied. Starting with the one- passage — Kruj-fia means the major 

ness of being they cannot have premiss, or more often both pre- 

arrived at the notion of a mani- mises, and inKpopa the conclusion, 

foldnessof conceptions, since this it is most probable that the 

oneness excludes in its abstract meaning given above is the real 

form any development or sub- meaning of these words. 



226 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. Euclid, to attack conclusions and not premises — in 

XIT 

other words, to refute by a reductio ad absurdum. 



of ^ E^va "^ * s a "^ s0 sa ^ ^ at ' -^ uc ^ l re J ec ^ed explanations by 
analogies — a form much used by Socrates — because 
a similar thing does not make the first one any 
clearer, and a dissimilar thing is not to the point. 
The most perfect description of Euclid's procedure 
will probably be found in Plato, who, speaking in the 
Sophistes of the philosophers of conceptions, sa\^s that 
in their discourses they destroy- matter piecemeal, in 
order to prove that it has no real being, but is subject 
to flux and change. This is exactly the line which Zeno 
adopted, in order to prove the uncertainty of the per- 
ceptions of the senses ; and which again appears in 
the Sorites of the later Megarians. Matter which is 
apparently real is divided into its component parts, 
which are again subdivided, and since there appears 
to be no limit to the division, and no ultimate atom 
. on which contemplation can rest, it is argued that 
matter must be itself unreal, and a mere passing 
phenomenon. Euclid is accordingly rightly regarded 
as the founder of the Megarian criticism. But with him 
criticism does not simply bear the character of empty 
wrangling, although objections may be raised against 
the captiousness of his arguments, 2 but it would 

1 Ibid. teal rbu diet. irapa^oXrjs that because of his captiousness, 

Koyov dvypei, Xeycov tjtoi e| 6/jlolcou he might associate possibly with 

avrbv 7) e£ dvo/jiolcov crvuicrTacrdaL' Sophists, but not with human 

Kal el fxeu e| o/jLoiow, irepl avrd delv beings. But this statement can 

/uiaWov^ ols ofAoia ecriv duaarpe- only go for little, since it uses 

<p€<r6aL' el 5' e| dvo/jLoiccv, irapeX- the term Sophist in a way pecu- 

Keiv ttJj/ TrapdBeuiv. liar to post-Socratic times. It 

2 According to Diog. ii. 30, is more worthy of belief (Diog. 

Socrates had already observed, ii. 107) that Timon called him a 



MEGARIAN CAPTIOUSNESS— EUCLID. 227 

appear that, like Zeno before him, he was seriously Chap. 

anxious to establish some positive principles, and 1 

that he only used the subtleties of argument as a 
means to this end. Nothing, at least, is known of 
him which would lead to an opposite conclusion, 
and not one of the quibbling fallacies, for which the 
Megarian school was afterwards notorious, is laid 
to his charge. 

Among the first successors of Euclid, however, 
the element of mere captiousness prevailed over 
positive teaching. The doctrines of these thinkers 
were too barren to command attention for long, and 
too abstract to admit of farther development; but a 
polemic against prevailing opinions presented to the 
sharp-witted, to the contentious, and to those ambi- 
tious of intellectual distinction, an unexplored field, 
over which the Megarians eagerly ranged. 1 In doing 
this their metaphysical assumptions were not seldom 
used only as occasions for engaging in wordy disputes. 
Of the fallacies which are imputed to Eubulides, 2 

quarrelsome person, "who intro- KeKaXvfx/jLevos, the acoptrns, the 

duced amongst the Megarians KepaTiurjs, the cpaAatcpos. The 

a rage for disputes. first of them is given as follows 

1 The ordinary form of these by Arist. Soph. El. 25. 180, a, 34. 
captious proofs is that of asking b, 2 ; Alex, ad loc. Cic. Acad. iv. 
questions. Hence the regular 29, 95: If a man says, he is at 
expression : \6yov epcorau (to the moment telling a lie, is he 
raise a point) in Diog. ii. 108; telling a lie, or is he speaking 
116 ; Sext. Math. x. 87 ; and the truth? The SiaXavOavoov, the iy- 
MeyapiKh ipcor-n/uaTa in the frag- K6Ka\v/Ay.4i/os, and the Electra are 
ment of Chrysippus. But like different forms of the same fal- 
the Sophists, they refused every lacy. Do you know who is con- 
answer but Yes or No. Diog. ii. cealed ? Do you know who is 
135. behind the veil? Did Electra 

2 Diog. ii. 108, enumerates 7 : know her brother before he an- 
that called tyevSofxej/os, that called nounced himself to her ? and the 
diaXavdavow, the Electra, the iy- solution of them all consists in 

Q 2 



228 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XII. 

(b) Cauti- 
ousness of 

Eubulides. 



(c) That of 
Alexinus. 



though probably older, 1 only one, the Sorites, has any 
intelligible relation to their metaphysics. It could 
be proved by the Sorites that real being does not 
belong to objects of sense, and that every object of 
sense passes into its opposite, and represents what is 
changing, and not what is real and unchangeable. 2 
The rest appear to be real fallacies, having no other 
object than to involve opponents in difficulties. 3 

The powers of Alexinus in argument seem to 
have been of a similar kind ; at least he is only 
known to us as a captious disputant. Beyond this 
fact, if we except an argument in which he vainly 



the fact, that he who was conceal- 
ed, or behind the veil, or had not 
yet announced himself respec- 
tively, was known to, but not 
immediately recognised by, the 
lookers on. The Keparivrjs is as fol- 
lows : Have you lost your horns ? 
If you say Yes, you allow that 
you had horns. If you say No, 
you allow that you have them 
still. Diog. vii. 187 ; vi. 38; Se- 
neca, Ep. 45, 8 ; (Ml. xvi. 2, 9. 
The Sorites consists in the ques- 
tion : How many grains make a 
heap ? or more generally : With 
what number does Many begin ? 
Of course it is impossible to as- 
sign one. See Cic. Acad. ii. 28, 
92; 16, 49; Diog. vii. 82; Pers. 
Sat. vi. 78. The <})a\aKpbs is 
another form of the same : How 
many hairs must you lose to be- 
come a bald-head? See Hor. 
Ep. ii. 1, 45. 

1 There are, for instance, indi- 
cations of the Sorites in Zeno 
and Euclid. In general it is 
difficult to say who is the dis- 
coverer of quibbles, which are 



taken seriously at the time they 
are produced, but are after all 
only bad jokes. Seneca, Ep. 45, 
10, says that many books had 
been written on the \pev86fievos, 
among which those of Theo- 
phrastus and Chrysippus are 
known to us from Diog. vii. 196. 
Chrysippus, according to Diog. 
vii. 198, 192, also wrote on the 
hiaXavQdvwv, the ey/ce/caAv/x^tej/os, 
and the (rccpirrjs. Philetas of Cos 
is said to have worked himself to 
death in writing about the i//eu8o- 
/aevos. The KeparivTjs and iyK€Ka- 
Xvfxp.ivos were also attributed to 
Diodorus (Diog. ii. Ill), and the 
former (Diog. vii. 187) as also 
the Sorites (Diog. vii. 82) to 
Chrysippus, certainly without 
reason to Chrysippus. 

2 Compare what will be later 
said about Diodorus' proofs in 
denying motion. 

3 The motive which Prautl 
sees in the ey/ceKaAu^ei/os is 
not so patent, and the assump- 
tions of Brandis, p. 122, do not 
seem accurate. 



MEGARIAN CAPTI0USNESS—ALEX1NUS. 



229 



attempted to entangle Menedemus in what is called Chap. 

the ' horned ' fallacy, 1 and a refutation of Xenophon's ' 

proofs of the reasonable arrangement of the world, 2 
a refutation which was subsequently repeated by the 
Academicians, 3 nothing is known of him. In close 
connection with the Megarian doctrines may be placed 
the discussions of Diodorus on motion and destruction, 
on the possible, and on hypothetical sentences. 

Tradition has preserved four arguments, by which (d) That of 
Diodorus attempted to support the fundamental f*? d Q™ s ' 
teaching of his school on the impossibility of motion. 
The first, 4 which in the main is the same as that of 
Zeno, is as follows. Supposing anything to move, it 
must either move in the space in which it is, or in 
the space in which it is not. It has not room to 
move in the former, because it entirely fills it. In 
the latter it can neither act nor be acted upon ; and 
hence motion is inconceivable. 5 The second is a 



(«) 

Motion. 



3 In Diog. ii. 135. 

2 Sext. Math. ix. 107 : Zeno 
had. concluded, because the world 
is the best possible, and reason 
is higher than the absence of 
reason, that the world must have 
reason. See Cic. De N. D. ii. 8, 
21 ; iii. 9, 22. To this Alexinus 
replied : t^ ttoititikov rod /j.'t] ttoit)- 
tikov KaX rb ypaufxariKov rod firj 
ypafi/jLariKov Kpttrrov icn • koX 
to Kara ras &AXas r^x vas 0ewpou- 

flSVOV KptlTTOV iffTL TOV fJLT] TOLOV- 

rov. oi>8e %v 8e k6o~iaov Kpsirrov 
£cm ' iroLr)TiKoi/ a\pa na\ ypafxixarL- 

k6v eCTTlV 6 KOCTfJiOS. 

3 Cic. N. D. iii. 8, 21; 10, 26; 
11, 27. 

4 Sext. Pyrrh. ii. 242; iii. 71; 
Math. x. 85. 

* Sext. Pyrrh. iii. 243, men- 



tions a similar argument against 
becoming in general, in immediate 
connection with the proof given 
above : Neither can what is come 
into being, for it exists already ; 
nor can what is not, for nothing 
can happen to it ; consequently 
nothing at all is. It is possible 
that this argument also belongs 
to Diodorus. But Steinhart is 
wrong in attributing to him ( Allg. 
Encykl. sect i. bd. xxv. p. 288) 
the distinction between spa ce in 
the wider and in the narrower 
sense, which is found in Sext. 
Pyrrh. iii. 75; Math. x. 95. since 
it would appear from these pas- 
sages, that the distinction was 
made with a view to meet Dio- 
dore's objections. 



230 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. less accurate form of the same proof. 1 All that 
XII 
i moves is in space. "What is in space reposes, there- 
fore what is moved reposes. A third proof 2 proceeds 
by taking it for granted that there are infinitesimal 
atoms and particles. It is generally attributed to 
Diodorus, 3 but probably he only used it hypotheti- 
cally, as Zeno did his argument, to refute ordinary 
notions. 4 It is this : As long as the particle a is in the 
corresponding space A, it does not move, because it 
completely fills it. Just as little does it move when 
it is in the next following space, b ; for no sooner is 
it there than its motion has ceased. Accordingly it 
does not move at all. In this conclusion one cannot 
fail to discover the note of Zeno's inferences, and of 
that critical process which had been already described 
by Plato. The fourth proof, 5 besides assuming the 
existence of atoms, distinguishes between partial and 
complete motion. 6 Every moving body must first 
have the majority of its particles moved, before it can 
move altogether; and similarly it must first have 
the majority of that majority moved, and so on. 
Hence it follows, that when the division has come to 
an end, and there are say 10,000 particles, two of 
these must first move whilst the remainder are at 



1 Sext. Math. x. 112. to Sext. Math. x. 85, was put in 

2 Id. x. 143. such a shape as to prove, that 

3 Id. ix. 362:Pyrrh. iii. 32; every atom fully occupied its 
Dionys. in Eus. Pr. Ev. xiv. 23, space; but this is unimportant 
4 ; Stob. Ekl. i. 310, all of which here. 

refer to one common source. 5 Sext. Math. 113. 

Diodorus called these atoms a^epT?. 6 Kivrjais kclt e-KiKpareiav and 

4 Even the first proof, according KivT\<ns holt el\iKpive>av. 



MEG ART AN CAPTIOUSNESS— DIODORUS. 231 

rest. These two can clearly not overcome the rest. Chap. 

XII 
A movement of the majority of particles, there- \ 

fore, becomes impossible, and consequently that of 

the whole body. Motion is therefore inconceivable. 

Sextus has already noticed l that there are links 

wanting in this proof. Diodorus, however, appears 

to have considered the argument unanswerable, and 

hence, after all his researches, he concludes that it 

never can be said of a thing, It is moving, but only, 

It has moved ; 2 — in other words, he was prepared to 

allow what the senses seemed to prove, 3 that a body 

is now in one place and now T in another, but he 

declared the transition from the one to the other 

to be impossible. This is indeed a contradiction, 

and as such it was laid to his charge by the ancients, 

and by him very inadequately met. 4 At the same 

time it was a deviation from the original teaching 

of his school. Euclid absolutely denied motion, and 

would just as little have allowed a completed motion 

as a transition in the present. 

The argument of Diodorus to prove that nothing (#) On 

perishes, agrees in substance with the third of these f^ 7110 ' 

proofs. It is as follows. Wails, he says, do not 

perish ; so long as the stones keep together, they 

stand ; but when the stones are separated they are 

no longer there. 5 He appears, therefore, to have 

1 Ibid. 112, 118. A further 2 Sext. Math. x. 48 ; 85; 91; 

argument, the first argument of 97-102. 

Zeno's is not attributed to Dio- 3 This reason is specially men- 

dorus by Sext. Math. x. 47. He tioned by Sext. Math. x. 86. 
only says as to its result, that 4 See Sext. 91, 97. 
Diodorus agreed therein with the 5 Sext. Math. x. 347. 
Eleatics. 



232 TUB SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. equally allowed that it was possible for them to have 
' perished. 



(7) On the His discussions on what is possible are closely 
Possible. re l a ted to the enquiry into motion. In both cases 
the possibility of change is the point raised, but in 
one case it is raised in reference to something, in the 
other abstractedly. In both cases, Diodorus stands 
on exactly the same footing with regard to his School. 
The older Megarians only allowed what actually is 
to be possible, understanding by actual what was 
before them in the present. To this Diodorus added 
what might be in the future, by saying : Possible is 
what either is actual or what will be actual. 1 In 
proof of this statement he gave an argument, which 
goes by the name of Kvpisvcov, and is still admired 
after centuries, 2 as a masterpiece of subtle criticism. 
It is in the main as follows : From anything possible 
nothing impossible can result; but it is impossible 
that the past can be different to what it is ; for had 
it been possible at a past moment, something impos- 
sible would have resulted from something possible. 
It was therefore never possible, and generally speak- 



1 Cic. De Fato, 6, 12; 7, 13; a-o^KT/xdrLov eAucas, iroKv KOfxtyo- 
9, 17; Ep. ad Div. ix. 4; Pint, rcpov rod Kvpievovros. He also 
Sto. Rep. 46 ; Alex. Aph. in mentions, ii. 19, 9, treatises of 
Anal. Pr. 59. The above sen- Clean thes, Chrysippns, Antipater, 
tence is expressed here thns : and Archidemus on the Kvpievwv. 
Possible is '6irep fj icrrip aArjdes rj Chrysippns conld only meet 
ecrTai. it (according to Alex, in Anal. 

2 Comp. Epict. Diss. ii. 18, 18: Pr. 57, b. in Schol. to Arist. 
we ought to be prond of moral 163) by asserting that possibly 
actions, ovk inl t£ top Kvptevovra the impossible might result from 



ipwTr)o~ai, and just before: Ko^hv the possible. 



MEGARIAN CATTIOVSXESS— PHILO. 233 

ing it is impossible that anything should happen Chap. 
differently to what has happened. 1 ' 



Philo, a pupil of Diodorus, was far less exacting (e) That of 
when he declared everything to be possible, even if ^ a \ Q n the 
compulsory outward circumstances should prevent it Possible. 
from being realised, 2 provided only the capacity for 
it pre-existed. This was undeniably a departure 
from the Megarian teaching. 

In regard to the truth of hypothetical sentences, (0) On 
Philo laid down criteria different to those of his Sjjf*" 
teacher. 3 Diodorus declared those conditional sen- fences, 
tences to be true, in which the protasis being accepted 
as true, there neither is nor can have been a false 
apodosis. Philo says more vaguely, those are true 
in which there is not a true protasis and a false 
apodosis. It appears however to have been merely 
a question of correctness in speaking of logical rules. 4 

With Diodorus' view of what is possible the asser- (7) On the 
tion appears to be connected, that no words are ^ord™ 9 qf 
meaningless or ambiguous, each one having always a 
meaning and requiring to be taken in a particular 
sense. 5 The possible meaning of a word, is only that 

1 Epict. Diss. ii. 19, 1 : 6 t ovr tariv aXifies ovt' earai. 
KvpiGv&v \6yos a-nb Toiovrccp rivuiv 2 Alex.-Simpl. in Categ.-Schol. 

acpopix&v 7}pccrrj(TdaL (paiveTai • kol- in Arist. 65, b, 5. 
1/77S yap ovg7)s fiaxys ro7s rpurl 3 See Sext.Pyrrh.ii. 110; Math. 

tovtols Trphs a\\T]\a, too ' ttcip ira- viii. 113 ; i. 309 ; Cic. Acad. iv. 

peXrjXvdbs aArjdts avayncuov elveuf 47, 143. 

heal T'2 ' ^vvarco advvarov ^77 olko- 4 The inferences by which 

Kovdelv, 1 Kal tw ' SvvaTOv eJvai h Sextus M. viii. 115, refutes Philo, 

ovr eanu aXriBcs ovt ecrrat,' do not touch his real meaning at 

o-vui^cov tt)v \x6.xr\v ravTTjv 6 Aid- all, however much they may fol- 

dcopos t?7 to>j> TTpwTcov dvolv irida- low from the words of his defi- 

vott)ti ffw^xp^^ "Kpbs irapd- nition. 
crraciv rov /LnjSej/ elvai dvvarbv 5 Gell. xi. 12; A mm on, De III- 



234 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XII. 



(/) That 
of Stilpo, 
which 
adopted 
much from 
the 

Cynics, 
(a) Every 
combina- 
tion of 



one which is present to the speaker's mind. Our 
information, however, about Diodorus, and about the 
whole Megarian School, is far too scanty to enable us 
to bring the fragments of their teaching into a per- 
fectly satisfactory context, 1 even granting that enough 
is known to trace one and the same tendency in all 
these thinkers. It may then be assumed as probable, 
that the Megarians did not confine themselves to those 
logical subtleties which are known to us, but that our 
notices are too deficient for us to be able to attribute 
others to them with anything like certainty. 2 

A peculiar position in the Megarian philosophy 
is occupied by Stilpo. Ever ready to defend the 
teaching of the School, at the head of which he stood, 
clinging to universal conceptions, maintaining the 
impossibility of becoming, the unity of being, and 
the difference between sensuous and rational percep- 
tions, 5 he at the same time combines with his Me- 



terpret. 32, a. In order to show 
that every word has a meaning, 
Diodorus, according to Amnion., 
gave the name aWafi^v to one of 
his slaves. 

1 Hitter's conjectures seem 
in many respects to go beyond 
historical probability, and beyond 
the spirit of the Megarian teach- 
ing. To illustrate this here would 
take too long. 

2 Prautl believes that the ma- 
jority of the sophisms enume- 
rated by Aristotle, really belong 
to the Megarians. Most of them, 
however, would appear to come 
from the Sophists, in proof of 
which a reference may be made 
to Plato's Euthydemus, which 



can hardly have the Megarians 
in view. Towards Euclid Plato 
would not have so expressed him- 
self ; as may be gathered from 
the Sophistes, 246, C, and the in- 
troduction to the Thesetetus ; and 
Eubulides had not appeared when 
Plato composed the Euthyde- 
mus. That the Megarians made 
use of many of the Sophistic fal- 
lacies, is of course not denied. 
Only nothing accurate is known 
about it. 

3 Compare the passage in 
Aristocles, in which ol 7repl StiA- 
Troova. /cat robs MeyapiKovs are 
spoken of in addition to the 
Eleatics. 



MEGARIAX CAPTIO USNESS— STILPO. 



23o 



garian views theories and aims which originally Chap. 

XII 
belonged to the Cynics. In the first place he rejected, 

as did Antisthenes, every combination of subject and subject and 

predicate, since the conception of the one is different rejected 

from the conception of the other, and two things with ^ l 

different conceptions can never be declared to be the 

same. 1 The doctrine of the unity of being, in as far 

as it can be shown to have originated with Stilpo, 

may be deduced as a corollary from this view; for if 

nothing can be predicated of anything else, it follows 

that being can alone be predicated of itself. 

Traces of Cynicism may be further seen in Stilpo's 

moral principles. The captious logic to which other 

Megarians devoted themselves with speculative one- 

sidedness, to the entire neglect of the ethical element, 2 

was no less a characteristic of Stilpo, 3 and perhaps it 



' Pint. adv. Col. 22, 1. The 
Epicurean Stilpo raises the ob- 
jection : tov Qehv avaipHo~$ai vir 3 
avTov, XiyovTos erepou erepov jjA] 
KaT7iyopsi(r8ai. tt&s yap j3iu)(r6- 
/j.€6a. /j.7] XeyovTes avQpo)irov aya- 

Obv ctAA 5 avOpcoirov av- 

dpooirov kclL x u P ls ayaQbv ayaQov ; 
. . . and again : ov fir^v a\Xa to 

4ttI ^tIXttCOVOS TOLOVTOV iffTLV. €i 
7T€pl l7T7rOU TO Tp€X* lv KCLTrjyopOV- 

u,ev. ov (prjcri tovtov eivai tw 7repl 
ov K.a.T*r\yop€iTo.i to KaTriyopovfj-evov, 
aX\' €TepOV /J.€V avdpdoTrct) tov rt 
i\v €ivai tov Xoyov, €Tepov Se tw 
ayado) • /cat iraAiv to 'iirirov eivai 
tov TO^xovTa eivai dia<p4peiv e«a- 
Tepov yap aMaLTOv^.evoi tov Xoyov 
ov tov avTov airodiBufx€V \rn\p a/x- 
(polv. odev a/j.apTaveLV tovs eVe- 
pov €T€pov K.aT7)yopovvTas. The 
very same thing will be found in 
the case of Antisthenes. All the 
less reason has Plutarch to re- 



gard Stilpo's assertion as a mere 
joke. The same proof is given 
by Simpl. Phys. 26 : Bia 5e tt\v 
irepl TavTOL (the distinction be- 
tween the different categories and 
the ambiguity of words) ayvoiav 
Kal oi KeyapiKol fcXrjOevres (£tAo- 
o~o(poi. Xa&ovTes a>s ivapyrj irp6- 
Tacriv, otl a>v ot XoyoL ercpoi TavTa. 
eVepa £o~ti Kal otl to. €T€pa Ke- 
X&PtcrTai aXAyXoov, idoKOvv 5et- 
nvvvai avTov avrov Kex^p^jM^vov 
€Kao~Tov: i.e. since the conception 
of ^ocKpaTTjs fiovcriKos is a different 
one to that of ^oanpaT-Qs Aeu/co's-, 
the one according to Megarian 
hypotheses must be a different 
person to the other. 

2 Excepting Euclid's doctrine 
of the oneness of virtue, nothing 
bearing on Ethics is known as 
belonging to the Megarians. 

3 See Chrysipp. in Plut. Sto. 
Kep. 10, 11, p, 1036. 



236 THE SO CR A TIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. is only chance that no captious assertion or invention 
of his is on record. But not only is his character 



($) The always mentioned by biographers with the greatest 
goodplaced respect, 1 but many stories are told of him, which 
in apathy, identify his morality with that of the Cynics. The 
highest good he placed in an apathy, forbidding the 
feeling of pain even to exist. The wise man was 
required to be in himself independent, and not even 
to stand in need of friends to secure happiness. 2 
When Demetrius Poliorcetes enquired about his losses 
by the plunder of Megara, he replied, that he had 
seen no one carrying off his knowledge. 3 When 
reminded of the immoral life of his daughter, he 
rejoined, that if he could not bring honour on her, 
she could not bring disgrace on him. 4 Banishment 
he would not allow to be an evil. 5 To be independent 
of everything without, and to be absolutely free from 
wants- — this highest standard of Cynicism — was also 
his ideal. And lastly, the free attitude towards reli- 
gion adopted by the Cynics was also occupied by 
him, and expressed in many of his utterances. 6 

1 See p. 215, note 1. quil. An. c. 17; Puer. Ed. c. 8 ; 

2 Sen. Ep. 9, 1 : < An merito Sen. de Const, 5, 6 ; Epis. 9, 18; 
reprehendat in quadam epistola Diog. ii. 115. That Stilpo thereby 
Epicurus eos, qui dicunt sapi- lost his wife and daughter is 
entem se ipso esse contentum et probably a rhetorical exaggera- 
propter hoc amico non indigere tion of Seneca. 

desideras scire. Hoc objicitur 4 Plut. An. Tran. c. 6 ; Diog. 

Stilboni ab Epicuro et iis, quibus ii. 114. 

summum bonum visum est ani- 5 In the fragment in Stob. 

mus impatiens.' And a little Flor. 40, 8. 

further on: 'Hoc inter nos etillos 6 According to Diog. ii. 116, 

interest : noster sapiens vincit he proved that the Athene of 

quidem incommodum omne sed Phidias was not a God, and then 

sentit; illorum nesentitquidem.' before the Areopagus, evasively 

3 Plutarch, Demet, c. 9 ; Tran- replied that she was not a 6ebs 



STILPO—THE ELEAX-ERETRIAN SCHOOL. 237 

Whether he attempted to form a logical connection Chap. 
between the Cynic and Megarian theories, and if 



so, in what way the attempt was made, we are not (7) The 

. . Cynic and 

told. In itself it was not difficult. By asserting that Megarian 

no subject could admit a predicate, he approximated the °y es . 

to Euclid's hostile attitude against proof by analogy ; call?/ har- 

for this too rests on the general proposition that things 2J£ y 

dissimilar cannot be compared. This assertion is also 

quite in harmony with the negative criticism of the 

Megarian s, and if Euclid denied to the good any form 

of manifoldness, others might add, as Antisthenes 

really did, that the one and not the manifold could 

alone exist. Moreover from the oneness of the good 

the apathy of the wise man might be deduced, by 

considering that all else besides the good was unreal 

and indifferent. 1 The denial of the popular faith 

was also involved in the doctrine of the one, as it 

was first expressed by Xenophanes. There were not 

wanting, it is true, in the Cynic element adopted by 

Stilpo, points in which it approached the Megarian ; 

but it was a deviation from the original form of the 

Megarian teaching to allow explicitly such an element 

to exist. 

Closely connected with the Megarian school is the n. Mean- 

Elean-Eretrian, about which very little has come ^^/ m 

down to us. Its founder was Phsedo of Elis, 2 the A lts 

history. 

but a 0ea, and when Crates asked Philol. iv. 391. Phsedo, the scion 

him about prayers and sacrifices, of a noble Elean family, had been 

replied that these subjects could taken captive not long before the 

not be discussed in the streets. death of Socrates (probably 400 

1 Conf. Diog. ii. 106. or 401 B.C. Preller concludes 

2 See Preller's Phsedo's Life from Pha?do, 89, B., that he was 
and Writings ; Ehein. Mas. fur not eighteen years of age at the 



238 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XII. 



well-known favourite of Socrates. 1 On the death of 
his teacher, Phsedo collected a circle of disciples in 
his native town, who thence received the name of the 
Elean philosophers. 2 Plistanus is named as his suc- 
cessor, 3 in addition to whom Archipylus and Moschus 
are called his pupils. 4 Excepting their names we 
know nothing of them. By Menedemus and Ascle- 
piades, 5 the school was removed to Eretria, and it was 

1 Compare for his relations 
to Socrates the Phaedo, 58, D. 
89, H. 

2 'HAeia/cof, Strabo, ix. 1, 8 ; 
Diog. ii. 105, 126. 

3 Diog. ii. 105. 

4 126. Perhaps these men were 
not immediate pupils of his. 
Since nothing is said of Mene- 
demus' studying under Plistanus, 
the latter we may suppose, was 
no longer alive. 

5 The account given by Diog. 
ii. 125 of these philosophers in his 
life of Menedemus probably taken 
from Antigonus of Carystus and 
Heraclides Lembus, is as follows : 
Menedemus of Eretria, originally 
a tradesman, had been sent as a 
soldier to Megara. There he 
became acquainted with the 
school of Plato (Diog. says with 
Plato, but this is chronologically 
impossible) and joined it together 
with his friend Asclepiades, both 
of them (according to Athen. iv. 
168) earning a living by working 
at night. Soon, however, they 
joined Stilpo at Megara, and 
thence went to Moschus and Ar- 
chipylus at Elis, by whom they 
were introduced to the Elean 
doctrines. Returning to their 
native city and becoming con- 
nected by marriage they con- 
tinued together in faithful friend- 
ship until the death of Ascle- 



time of the death of Socrates ; 
it may, however, be asked whether 
Phsedo followed Athenian customs 
in his dress), and employed as a 
slave in most humiliating ser- 
vices at Athens, until one of So- 
crates' friends (besides Crito, 
Cebes and Alcibiades are both 
mentioned, the latter certainly 
not being at Athens at the time, 
and probably not being alive) 
redeemed him at the intercession 
of Socrates. See Diog. ii. 31, 
105: Suid. under $atic*)i/; Gell. 
K A. ii. 18 ; Macrob. Sat. i. 11 ; 
Lact. Inst. iii. 25, 15 ; Orig. c. 
Cels. iii. 67; Cic. KD.i. 33, 93; 
Athen. xi. 507, c. Preller not im- 
probably finds the source of the 
story in Hermippus, irepl rwv 
fUairpeipdveow iu iraifieia dovAwp. 
Most probably Phsedo left Athens 
on the death of Socrates. But whe- 
ther he at once returned home, 
or repaired with others to Euclid 
at Megara, is unknown. Diog. ii. 
105, mentions two genuine and 
four spurious dialogues of his. 
His Zopyrus is even quoted by 
Pollux, iii. 18. Pan&etius seems to 
have had doubts about all the 
treatises. He is called by Gellius, 
^philosophus illustris,' and his 
writings are spoken of as ( admo- 
dum elegantes.' Even Diog. ii. 47, 
enumerates him -among the most 
distinguished Socraticists. 



TEACHING OF ELEAN-ERETRIAN SCHOOL. 239 

then called the Eretriaxi. 1 Flourishing as was its Chap. 

condition here for a time, it appears soon to have '___ 

died out. 2 

Among its adherents there are only two, 3 Phaedo B. Re- 
and Menedemus, about whose opinions any infor- ^fr 8 
mation is to be had, and what is known of them is 
little enough. By Tim on 4 Phaedo is classed with 
Euclid as a babbler, which points to an argumentative 
tendency. Perhaps, however, he may have meddled 
with Ethics 5 more than Euclid did. Menedemus 
appears to have been distinguished from the cotem- 
porary philosophers of captiousness, by directing his 
attention to life and to moral questions. He is, how- 
ever, described as a sharp and skilful disputant; 6 
and it gives us the impression of captiousness, to 
hear that he only allowed affirmative judgments to 

piades, even after Menedemus certain Ctesibius as a pupil of 

had risen to highest rank in the Menedemus, but what he says of 

state, and had attained wealth him has nothing to do with phi- 

and influence with the Mace- losophy. A treatise of the Stoic 

donian princes. The sympathetic Sphserus against the Eretrian 

noble and firm character of Mene- School in 260 B.C. is the last trace 

demus, his pungent wit, his mo- of its existence. Diog. vii. 178. 
deration (Diog. ii. 139 ; Athen. 4 Diog. ii. 107. 
x. 419, e), his liberality and his 5 A short but clever fragment 

merits towards his country, are on the subject of morals, which 

a subject of frequent panegyric. Sen. Ep. 94, 41 quotes from Phse- 

Soon after the battle of Lysima- do, probably belongs to him. 
chia, which took place 278 B.C. 6 Diog. ii. 134: l\v 8e dwna- 

he died, possibly by suicide — the ravo^ros 6 M. kolI eV rep crvvQeffOai 

result of a grief which is dif- dvcaprayccvLcrros. icrTpecpero re 

ferently stated — at the age of irpbs itavTCLKaXevpecTLKoyeL' ipiom- 

seventy-four. According to Anti- raros re Kadd <pT}(Tiv 'Aurta'Oeyrjs 

gonus in Diog. ii. 136, he left no eV diaBoxcus, fy. The words of 

writings. Epicrates in Athen. ii. 59, cannot 

1 Strabo, ix. 1, 8 ; Diog. ii. well refer to this Menedemus, 
105, 126; Cic. Acad. iv. 42, 129. sincethey are also directed against 

2 Plut. Tranqu. An. 13. Plato, who was then still living. 

3 Athen. iv. 162, e, mentions a, 



240 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. be valid, but rejected negative and hypothetical ones. 1 
' Chrysippus 2 blames him as well as Stilpo, for his 
plausible fallacies. 3 On the other hand, it is as- 
serted that in positive opinions he was a Platonist, and 
only employed argument for amusement. 4 From 
what has been stated above, this seems incredible, 
and it appears all the more so from his disputes with 
Alexinus. 5 Any leaning on his part towards Pla- 
tonism is also improbable. 6 Still the assertion would 
appear to be to a certain degree correct, because, to- 
gether with Stilpo, he estimated ethical doctrines above 
argumect. Not only do we hear that he admired Stilpo, 
who was his teacher, more than any other philosopher, 7 
and that he was often reproached with being a Cynic, 8 
but we know that he busied himself with the ques- 

1 Diog. ii. 135. This does not does not come from Menedemus. 
agree with what Simpl. Phys. 4 Heraclides in Diog. ii. 135, 
20 says : the Eretrians asserted Hitter's conjecture that this Me- 
Ix-qSev nark /j.e$ei/bs KaryyopeiGdai. nedemus is confounded with Mp- 
They appear in this passage to nedemus the Platonist, whom 
be confounded with the Cynics we know from Plut. adv. Col. 32, 
and the later Megarians. 8, and Athen., is hardly to be 

2 Plut. Sto. Kep. 10, 11. trusted. For Heraclides Lembus 

3 Hermann, G-es. Abh. 253, had treated the Eretrians in detail, 
refers to Menedemus the verses as we learn from Diog., so that it 
of John of Salisbury, in which a is difficult to imagine such a con- 
certain Endymion is mentioned, fusion. The context also tells 
who called fides, opinio vera, and against that view. 

error, opinio fallax, and who de- b Diog. 135, 136, says that he 

nied that you could know what was constantly attacking Alexi- 

was false, for no knowledge could nus with violent derision, but 

be deceptive. The allusion does yet did him some service, 
not, however, appear probable. 6 Diog. 134 : twv 5e Sida- 

The continuation, that the sun (TKiAwu ruv irepl U.\drcoi'a koI zevo- 

corresponds to truth, and the Kparyv . . . KaretypSveL. 
moon to falsehood, that error and 7 Diog. 1 34. 
change bear rule under the moon, 8 Diog. 140 : Ta fxev ovv irpcora 

but truth and immutability in the KaretypovtLTo, kvgov kcll Arjpos virb 

domain of the sun, certainly rccv 'EpeTpeloov olkovoov. 



TEACHING OF ELEAN-ERETRIAN SCHOOL. 



241 



tions of the chief good in a practical way. He affirmed 
that there was only one good — intelligence, 1 which, in 
his view, was identical with a rational direction of 
the will. 3 The virtues, which are commonly spoken 
of as distinct, were, he maintained, only different 
names of this one virtue ; 3 and, by his activity as a 
statesman, 4 he proved that he did not aim at an 
unfruitful knowledge. In his free views of religion 
he reminds us of Stilpo and the Cynics. 5 But 
stragglers, such as the Eretrians, soon found them- 
selves unable to exercise any important influ- 
ence ; and about this time, Zeno united the most 
valuable parts of the Megarian and Cynic doctrine in 
the more comprehensive system of the Stoics. 



Chap. 
XII. 



1 Cic. Acad. iv. 42 ; Diog. 129 : 
Ttpbs 5e tov elnovra TroWa to. 
dyadd eitvOgto iroaa rbu apid/j.bv 
Kal €i POfxi^oL irKeicc toov kKarov ' 
and in 134 are some questions to 
prove that the useful is not the 



z Diog. 136: Kai ttot4 twos 
aKOvaas, ws /xeyio'TOV dyaQbv enj 
to irdvTwv iirLTvyx^ v€lJ/ & v TLS ^ 1TL ~ 
0VfJL€l, eiire • iroXv §e fJLziC ov ' T0 
iTTidvfxeip oiv 5e?. 

3 Pint. Virfc. ZVIor. 2 : Mej/e5i7/ios 
lieu 6 e£ 'Eperpias avrjpei t&v dpe- 
twv Kal to ttAtjOos Kal tcls dtacpopas, 
us (J.LO.S ovo-qs Kal xpw/xeOTjs ^o\- 



fiots oiofj.acri' to yap avTO crco- 
<ppocrvv7]v Kai avdpeiau Kal diKaio- 
o~vvr\v \4yeo~dai, Kaddirep fipoTov 
Kal avBpo)Kov. 

4 That he exercised a con- 
siderable influence on his friends 
by his teaching and his perso- 
nality is shown by Plutarch, 
Adul. et Am. c. 11 ; Diog. ii. 
127-129. 

5 Diog. 135 : BiccvSs tg iirifie- 
Xcos KaTaTpexovTos t&v {xdvTGOiv, 
veKpovs avTov iTTLCcpdrTetv eAeye * 
against which a trait of personal 
fear, such as is described by Diog. 
132, proves nothing. 



242 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

THE CYNICS. 



Chap. 
XIII. 

A. Ex- 
ternal 
History 
of the 
Cynics. 



The Cynic, like the Megarian School, arose from a 
fusion of the teaching of Socrates with the doctrines 
of the Eleatics and Sophists, as has been already re- 
marked. Its teaching was united with the Megarian by 
Stilpo, and with it passed over to the Stoa of Zeno. 1 
Its founder, Antisthenes, a native of Athens, 2 appears 
to have become acquainted with Socrates only late 



1 Accordingly the connection 
of these schools is incompatible 
with history, if the Cyrenaics are 
placed between the Cynics and 
the Megarians, as Tennemann, 
Hegel, Marbach, Braniss, Bran- 
dis and Striimpell have done. It 
is otherwise of no moment whe- 
ther we advance from the Me- 
garians to Antisthenes and thence 
to Aristippus, or vice versa, for 
these three schools are not de- 
velopments of one another, but 
grew np side by side from the 
same origin. The order followed 
above appears, however, to be the 
most natural ; for the Megarians 
confined themselves more closely 
to the fundamental position of 
Socrates ; Antisthenes considered 
its practical consequences ; and 
Aristippns it effects on happiness. 



2 Antisthenes was the son of 
an Athenian and a Thracian 
slave (Diog. vi. 1.; ii. 31; Cle- 
ment, Strom, i. 302, C. in calling 
him a Phrygian, is confounding 
him with Diogenes, or else he 
must have drawn -.a false con- 
clusion from the anecdote in 
Diog. vi. 1). He lived, according 
to Xen. Mem. ii. 5 ; Sym. 3, 8. 
4, 34, in extreme poverty. The 
time of his birth and death is not 
further known to us. Diodor. xv. 
76, mentions him as one of the 
men who lived about 366 b. c. and 
Plut. Lycurg. 30, Sch., quotes a 
remark of his on the battle of 
Leuctra. According to Eudocia 
(Villoison's Anecd. i. 56,) he at- 
tained the age of 70 years, which 
would place his birth in 436 b.c, 
but the circumstance is uncertain. 



HISTORY OF THE CYNICS. 



243 



in life, 1 but ever afterwards to have been devoted to 
him 2 with enthusiastic admiration, and to have en- 
deavoured to reproduce 3 his method of reasoning, 
though not always without an element of captiousness 
and quibbling. Early in life Antisthenes had en- 
joyed the instruction of Grorgias, 4 and included other 
Sophists also among his friends. 5 He had indeed 
himself appeared in the capacity of a Sophist, as a 
pleader and teacher, before he made the acquaintance 
of Socrates. 6 It was therefore only a return to his old 
mode of life, when on the death of Socrates he opened 
a School. 7 But at the same time he did not neglect to 



Chap. 
XIII. 



1 We have every reason, to 
refer Plato's yepouroop rots b^ijxd- 
Oea-L, Soph. 251, B., to him, as will 
be subsequently seen. The only 
thing against it is the account in 
Diog. vi. 1, that Antisthenes was 
praised by Socrates for his va- 
lour in the battle of Tanagra. 
This objection applies even if the 
battle referred to was not the 
victory of the Athenians in the 
year 456 B.C. (in which it is im- 
possible that Antisthenes can have 
taken part), but the battle which 
was fought late in the autumn of 
423 B.C. between Delium and 
Tanagra (Thuc. iv. 91), which 
is usually called the battle of 
Delium. The account, however, 
cannot be of any weight; for 
Diog. ii. 31 quotes the same 
words of Socrates in a different 
way, and it was probably a fic- 
tion of later times to make the 
battle of Tanagra the occasion. 

2 Xen. Mein. iii. 11, 17; Sym. 
4, 44 : 8, 4-6. Plato, Phido, 
59, B. ; Diog. vi. 2. 



3 This is the way in which he 
is represented by Xen. Symp. 2, 
10; 3. 4; 6; 4, 2 ; 6; 6, 5 ; 8. 

4 Diog. vi. 1, is immediately re- 
ferring to the rhetorical school of 
G-orgias, but he did not deny that 
it applied to his philosophy. At 
a later period Antisthenes wrote 
against Gorgias, Athen.v. 220. 

5 According to Xen. Symp. 4, 
62, he introduced Prodicus and 
Hippias to Callias, and recom- 
mended to Socrates an unknown 
Sophist from fleraclea. 

6 Hermippus in Diog. vi. 2. 

7 In the yvfivaoiiov of Cyno- 
sarges, which was intended for 
those who, like himself, were of 
mixed Athenian blood. Diog. vi. 
13 ; Gottling. Ges. Abh. i. 253 : 
Plut. Themist. c. 1. According 
to Diog. vi. 4, he had but few 
pupils because of his harsh and 
severe treatment of them. It is 
not reported of him, that he re- 
quired payment but he appears 
to have received voluntary pre- 
sents. Diog. vi. 9. 



R 2 



244 



THE S0CRAT1C SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XIII. 



commit his views to writing in numerous volumes/ 
the language and style of which are spoken of in the 
highest terms of praise. 2 

Among the pupils 3 of Antisthenes, Diogenes 4 of 

1 Diog. vi. 15, gives a list of 
these writings, which, according 
to Diog. ii. 64, was in the main 
approved of by Pansetius. Excep- 
ting a few fragments, the only 
ones which are preserved are the 
two small and comparatively 
worthless declamations, Ajax and 
Ulysses, the genuineness of which 
is fully ascertained. Winckel- 
mann (Antisthenis Pragmenta, 
Zur. 1842) has collected all the 
fragments. Because of his many 
writings, Timon called him irav- 
rocpvTJ <£Ae5o*/a, Diog. vi. 18. 

2 See Theopomp. in Diog. vi. 
14, and vii. 19 ; Dionys. Jud. de 
Thuc. c. 31 ; Epictet. Diss. ii. 
17, 35; Phrynich. in Phot. Cod. 
158 ; Pronto, De Orat, i. p. 218 ; 
Longin. De Invent. Ehet. Grr. ix. 
559; Cic. ad Att. xii. 38; and 
Lucian adv. Indoct. c. 27 ; Theo- 
pompus also criticises his deli- 
vered addresses. 

3 Called by Aristotle, Metaph. 
viii. 3. ' Avt icrOeveioi, but in later 
times universally called Kvvlkol, 
probably even in the time of Anti- 
sthenes, partly from their place of 
meeting, partly because of their 
mode of life. Conf. Diog. vi. 13 ; 
Lact. Inst. iii. 15. g. E. Schol. in 
Arist. 23. Antisthenes was al- 
ready called airXoKvcai/, and Bru- 
tus speaks disparagingly of a 
Cynic (Plut. Brut. 34). Diogenes 
boasted of the name (Diog. 33 ; 
40; 45; 55-60; Stob.Ecl.ii.348,) 
and the Corinthians placed a mar- 
ble dog on his grave. (Diog. 78.) 

4 Steinhart, Diogenes, Allg. 



Encyc. sect.i. bd. xxx. 301 ; G-ott- 
ling, Diog. der Cyniker. Ges. 
Abh. i. 251. Diogenes was the 
son of a money-changer at Sinope. 
In his youth he had been en- 
gaged with his father in issuing 
counterfeit coin, in consequence 
of which he was obliged to leave 
his country. See Diog. vi. 20 ; 
Plut. Inimic. Util. c. 2. Musonius 
in Stob. Ploril. 40, 9. Lucian, 
Bis Accus., 24. Dio Chrys. Or. 
viii. We have no reason to doubt 
this fact, although the accounts 
may disagree in a few details. 
In Athens he became acquainted 
with Antisthenes, who, for some 
reason or other, drove him away 
with a stick, but was at length 
overcome by his perseverance. 
(Diog. 21 ; .Elian V. H. x. 16; 
Hieron. adv. Jovin. ii. 206.) When 
this took place is unknown, and 
Bayle's conjecture, that the con- 
demnation of Socrates was the 
cause of Antisthenes' hatred of 
mankind, is not to be depended 
upon for chronological reasons. 
Diogenes now devoted himself to 
philosophy in the Cynic sense of 
the term, and soon surpassed his 
master in self-denial and abste- 
miousness. He appears to have 
lived a very long time at Athens, 
at least, if the account of his 
meeting with Philip before the 
battle of Chseronea may be trusted, 
according to which he was then 
still living there. But it is also 
possible — and this agrees with his 
principle of having no home — that 
he may have visited other places 



HISTORY OF THE CYNICS -DIOGENES. 



245 



Sinope is alone known to fame, that witty and ec- 
centric individual, whose imperturbable originality, 
ready wit, and strength of character, admirable even 
in its excesses, no less than his fresh and vigorous 
mind, have been held up to view, as forming the 
peculiar type of character of the ancient world. 1 
Of the pupils of Diogenes, 2 Crates is by far the 



Chap. 
XIEI. 



as a wandering preacher of morals, 
particularly Corinth. (Diog. 44 ; 
63 ; Pint Prof, in Virt. 6, p. 78 ; 
Dio Chrys. Or. vi ; Val. Max. iv. 
3 ; Diog. ii. 66 ; vi. 50.) According 
to Diogenes, he met Aristippus 
in Syracuse. On some such jour- 
ney he fell into the hands of pi- 
rates, who sold him to Xeniades, 
a Corinthian. For this event see 
Diog. vi. 29 ; Plut. Tran. An. 4, 
p. 466 ; Stob. Ploril. 3, 63 ; 40, 
9 ; Epict. Diss. iii. 24, 66 ; Philo, 
Qu. Omni. Prob. Lib. 883, C. 
Xeniades made him the instruc- 
tor of his sons, a duty which he 
admirably discharged. Highly 
esteemed by his pupils and by 
their parents, he remained with 
them till his death. At this 
time occurred the conversation 
with Alexander, so greatly exag- 
gerated by tradition. (Diog. 32 ; 
38 ; 60 ; 68 ; Sen. Benef. v. 4, 3 ; 
Juvenal, xiv. 311 ; Theo. Progym. 
c. 5 ; Julian, Or. vii. 212.) The 
most simple version of it is that 
found in Plut, Alex. c. 14 ; De 
Alex. Virt. c. 10 ; ad Princ. Inerud. 
c. 5. Diogenes died at Corinth, on 
the same day, it is said, as Alex- 
ander (Plut. Qu. Conv. viii. 1,4; 
Demet. in Diog. 79), i.e. 353 b.c. 
at an advanced age (Diog. 76, 
says almost ninety, Cens. Di. 
Nat. 15, 2, says eighty-one). 
The nature of his death is de- 



scribed in very different ways. 
(Diog. 76; 31; Plut. Consol. ad 
Apoll. c. 12 ; JElian, V. H. viii. 
14 ; Tatian adv. Gr. c. 2 ; Hieron. 
adv. Jovin. ii. 207 ; Lucian, Dial. 
Mort. 21, 2 ; Cic. Tusc. i. 34, 
104; Stob. Ploril. 123, 11.) Most 
probably he succumbed to old 
age. The Corinthians honoured 
him with a solemn burial and a 
tomb, and Sinope erected a monu- 
ment to his memory (Diog. 78; 
Pausan. ii. 2, 4 ; Anth. G-r. iii. 
558). Diog. 80, mentions many 
writings which bear his name. A 
portion of them were, however, 
rejected by Sotion. Others denied 
that he left any writings. 

1 That he exercised an irre- 
sistible charm over many persons 
by his manners and words is 
attested by Diog. 75, and con- 
firmed by examples like that of Xe- 
niades, Onesicritus, and his sons. 

2 Amongst them are known 
besides Crates and Stilpo, Onesi- 
critus, the companion and bio- 
grapher of Alexander, with his 
sons Androsthenes and Philiscus 
(Diog. vi. 75 ; 73 ; 80 ; 84); Moni- 
mus of Syracuse, the slave of a 
Corinthian money-changer, who 
was driven away by his master 
for throwing money out of the 
window in Cynic fanaticism, one 
of the most distinguished Cynics, 
and the author of several writings, 



246 



THE S0CEAT1C SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XIII. 



most celebrated ; l and it was by his influence that 
Hipparchia 2 and her brother Metrocles 3 were added 
to the Cynic School. The names of several imme- 
diate and remote pupils of Metrocles 4 are known, 
through whom the School may be traced down to the 
end of the third century. But all its nobler features 
were cultivated by the Stoics from the beginning of 
the third century, by whom they were not only de- 
prived of any lingering extravagances, but were also 
supplemented by the addition of other valuable ele- 



amongst them of iraiyvia (nrovdfj 
Xa\T]dvia fx^^Lyfxiva (Diog. vi. 82) ; 
Menander and Hegesias, and 
perhaps Bryson. Phocion is also 
said to have been an adherent of 
Diogenes, but Plutarch was not 
aware of it ; and as Phocion ad- 
hered to the Academy, there is 
probably no truth in the state- 
ment beyond the fact of a pass- 
ing acquaintance. 

1 The Theban Crates, gener- 
ally called a pupil of Diogenes, 
but by Hippobotus, a pupil of 
Bryson the Achaean (Diog. vi. 78), 
flourished about 325 B.C. (Diog. 
vi. 87). Since, however, he is not 
mentioned as tilting with Stilpo 
(Diog. ii. 117), but as quarrelling 
withMenedemus in his later years, 
his life must have lasted to the 
third century. Another Crates, a 
pupil of Stilpo, who is mentioned 
Diog. ii. 114, must not be con- 
founded with the Cynic Crates. 
He is probably the same as 
the Peripatetic of that name in 
Diog. iv. 23. In zeal for the 
Cynic philosophy, Crates gave 
away his considerable property. 
He died at an advanced age. 
Diog. 98 mentions some letters 



of his, the style of which re- 
sembled Plato's in part, some 
tragedies, also moral and satirical 
poems. Prom Diog. 91 ; Apul. 
Ploril. 14, we learn that he was 
ugly and deformed. 

2 The daughter of an opulent 
family from Maronea in Thrace, 
who from love to Crates renounced 
her prospects and habits of com- 
fort, and followed him in his 
beggar's life, Diog. 96; Apul. 
Floril. ii. 14. 

3 Formerly a pupil of Theo- 
phrastus, but won over to Cyni- 
cism by Crates, after having been 
cured by him of his childish idea 
of suicide. At a later period, how- 
ever, he hung himself to escape 
the burdens of age, Diog. 94. 

4 Diog. 95. His pupils were 
Theombrotus and Cleomenes ; the 
former was the teacher of Deme- 
trius, the latter of Timarchus, 
and both of them of Echecles, the 
teacher of ALenedemus. Menip- 
pus of Sinope also belongs to 
the more distinguished members 
of this school. Contemporary 
with Echecles was Colotes, Diog. 
vi. 102. Contemporary with Me,- 
trocles was Diodore of Aspendus. 



DEPRECIATION OF MENTAL CULTURE. 247 

ments. Henceforth it was useless as a special branch Chap. 
of the Socratic philosophy, and all the subsequent 
attempts which were made to preserve its distinct 
character only resulted in caricatures. Two of the 
basest of its later representatives are known to us in 
the persons of Menedemus 1 and Menippus. 2 Soon after 
it became extinct as a School, and only reappeared 
at a very much later time as an offshoot of Stoicism. 

The Cynic philosophy claims to be the genuine b. Their 
teaching of Socrates. But the many sided view of teac}lin 9' 
Socrates, by which he brought the scientific and the i^- a ^ 
moral elements into complete unison, and thus laid the of theoreti- 
foundations of a more extended and more deeply ^™ 
penetrating science, was above the powers of Anti- 
sthenes. Naturally of a narrow and dull compre- 
hension, 3 but fortified with singular strength of will, 
Antisthenes admired 4 above all things the inde- 
pendence of his master's character, the strictness of 
his principles, his self-control, and his universal 
cheerfulness in every position in life. He did not 
understand how these moral traits could be in a 

1 A Cynic who used to deliver independently of the opinions of 
his condemnatory addresses in opponents,' such as Plato, These- 
the mask of a fury (Diog. 102). tet. 155, E., in which the words 

2 Menippus was originally a aKXrjpobs koI avTirvirovs avdpw- 
Phoenician slave. He is de- ttovs and /jlclX* eu &[jlov(7oi refer 
scribed as a stingy miser and without doubt to Antisthenes ; 
money-changer, whose Cynicism Soph. 251, B. yepovrow ro7s d\pi- 
was only surface-deep. When /xddeo-i . . . v-irb irevias ttjs irepl 
his money was stolen, he hung <pp6v7](Tiv /cT^crecos ra roiavra tc- 
himself (Diog. 99). It appears 6avfMaK6<n. Arist. Metaph. v. 29 ; 
from Diog. that he lived in the viii. 3. 

third century. His satirical 4 As Cic. De Orat. iii. 17, 62, 

writings were imitated by Varro ; and Diog. vi. 2, remark, appa- 

Macrob. Sat. L 11. rently on the same authority. 

3 His teaching proves this, 



248 THE SOCEATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. great measure the result of free enquiry on the part 



XIII, 



of Socrates, and how they could thus be preserved 
from narrowness. The principle of a knowledge of 
conceptions reached far beyond the limits of his in- 
tellectual horizon. All knowledge not immediately 
subservient to ethical purposes he rejected as unne- 
cessary, or even as injurious, wishing even to sup- 
press it as the offspring of vanity and love of pleasure. 
Virtue, he maintained, was an affair of action, and 
could dispense with words and with wisdom. All that 
it needed was the strength of will of a Socrates. 1 
Thus his School not only regarded logical and physi- 
cal enquiries as worthless, but uttered the same opi- 
nion about all science and art which has not the 
moral improvement of mankind 2 for its immediate 

1 Diog. 11, Antisthenes teaches 'OSwrcrecos KaKa avafyrovvras ra 
avrdpKT] Se tit\v aperrjv irpbs eu- 5 s "ihia ayvoovvras * kcl\ /ultjv kclI 
daifAoviav, jx^evbs irpoo'hevixiv7]V robs /jlovclkovs ras (xkv ev rfj \vpa 
on /xJ? ^caKparLKTJs Iffxuos. vf)v r %op5ay apfiorreo'dai, avapfioara 
aperrjv 7W epycov eivai, fx7)re Aoycav 8' ex €iv T7 )s tyvxys T " ^V ' T obs 
ir\elo"r(jJV Seofievrjv fxr)re fxaOrj- /nadrj/JLanKobs airoi3AeireLv uev icpbs 
fxdroyv. rbv h')\iov kcl\ r\\v creX^vrjv, ra 8* 

2 Diog. 103: apicnei ovv avrots ev ttogI irpdy/jiara irapopav robs 
rbv Xoyinbv KaX rbv (pvo'iKbv r6nov pr)ropas Xeyeiv fxev ecnrovdaKevai 
Ttepiaipelv, ejMpepcas 'ApitfroovL ra ra BiKaia, irpdrreiv 5e /nrj^a/jicos. 
Xicp, fxovq 5e irpotfexeiv rq yOiKy. The passage on astronomers may- 
According to Diodes, Diogenes possibly have been supported by 
said — what others attribute to the story of Thales, who fell into 
Socrates — that we ought to learn a well whilst contemplating the 
orri rot ev /xeydpoiai kclkSv t' heavens, and corresponding to it is 
ayaOov re rervKrai. irapairovvrai. the passage in the Thesetetus 174, 
Se teal ra iynvKAia . . . TrepLaipovai. A, on the Thracian maiden who 
Se Kal yectifJLtrpiav koX fxovcriK7]v koX upbraided him for so doing. The 
irdvra ra roiavra. When a dial mother of Antisthenes wasaThra- 
was shown him, Diogenes replied, cian slave, and the words which 
that it was not a bad instrument to Plato puts into the mouth of the 
avoid being late for meals. Ibid. Thracian girl closely resemble 
27: tovs 8e ypafx^iariKobs iOav- those quoted by Diogenes. It would 
/na£e \^Avri(x9ev7)s~\ ra, fxkv rod also correspond with the charac- 



LIMITS TO DEPRECIATION OF CULTURE. 



249 



Chap. 
XIII. 



object. For said Diogenes, 1 as soon as other things 
engross attention, self is neglected. Even reading 
and writing Antisthenes declared could be dispensed 
with. 2 

The last statement must in any case be taken with (b) Limits 
limitation, 3 nor can the Cynic School as a whole be ° rec iaUon 
regarded as altogether hostile to culture, however of culture. 
much such language may seem to imply it. In 
fact decided expressions on the value of culture, 
coming from Antisthenes, 4 Diogenes, 5 Crates, 6 and 
Monimus, 7 are on record, and Diogenes is said to have 



ter of Antisthenes, that he as an 
a-naiSevros should be charged with 
not troubling himself about the 
general conception of things. 
Diog. 73 says of Diogenes : /uov- 

(TlKr\S T6 KOi ye(Ofl€TpiK7]S KCt\ 

acrr poXoyias KaX rcov roiovrcov a/j.€- 
Xeiv &s axp'fio'rcov KaX ovk avay- 
rclioov. Conf. Diog. 24; 39; Ju- 
lian, Or. vi. 190 ; Seneca, Ep. 88 ; 
Stob. Floril. 33, 14; id. 80, 6: 
an astronomer pointing to a map 
of the heavens says: uvroi elffiv oi 
ir\ap(A}fji€voi TU3V acrrepoov ' upon 
which Diogenes replies, pointing 
to those present: fi)] \pev8ov ■ ov yap 
ovtol elffiv ol irXav oofAGvoi, aXX 3 

OVTOL. 

1 According to Stob. in the 
extracts from John of Damascus, 
ii. 13, 61. 

2 Diog. 103 : ypafxfxara yovv ^ 
jxavQavtiv ecpacTKeu 6 'Aurio-Qevrts 
rovs (Tucppouas yevop-ei/ovs, %va /*}) 
diacrTpecpoivTO rots aXXorpiois. 

3 It would be hardly credible 
in a man so fond of writing. If 
the above statement is not alto- 
gether a fancy, it may either 
rest upon some individual ex- 
pression, such as, that it would 



be better not to read at all than 
to read such nonsense, or it is 
based upon more general state- 
ments such as that quoted by 
Diog. 5, that wisdom must not be 
written in books, but in the soul. 

4 Stob. Ekl. ed. Gaisf. App. ii. 
13, 68: Set robs fxiXXovras aya- 
6ois &v$pas yewfjcreaOai rb fiev 
troofia yv/jLvacriois acncelv, rfy 5e 
tyvxhv Traideveii/. 

5 Diog. 68 : r^v ira&eiav elire 

TOLS /JL6V V^OIS (TCOCppOCVUT)!/, TO?S 

de Trpecrfivrepois izapajivQiav, ro?s 
5e ir£v7)(n ttXovtov, to7s Be ttXou- 
(Tlols kogjxov efaai. — Stob. Ekl. ed. 
Gaisf. App. ii. 13, 29; rj nraiSeia 
6/xoia icrrl xpvcrcp (TT€<pdvcp • Kal 
yap tl^v %x ei Kc ^ ^oXvreXeiav. 

6 Diog. 86 : rain e^w fiGc? 
%pt,aOov Kal 4(ppopTL(Ta Kal fxera 
Mouow (TSfAV iBdr}v. ra 5e iroXXa 
Kal oXfiia rvcpos ifxap^e. A pa- 
rody of this verse is the epitaph 
on Sardanapalus in Clem. Stro- 
mat. ii. 411, D. 

7 Stob. Ekl. ed. Gaisf. App. 
ii. 13, 88: Movi^os ' . . . etyr) 
Kpeirrov elvaiTvcpXbp ^ airaiSevTOP' 
rbu fxhu yap its rbv fidOpov, rbv S' 
els rb fidpaOpov einriirreiv. 



250 



THE SO C RATIO SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XIII. 



zealously instilled the words of poets and of prose 
writers into his pupils. 1 Besides, it cannot be con- 
ceived that men, who wrote so much that was 
good, should have declared war against all culture. 
One thing we may however take as established, that 
the worth of culture was alone and exclusively 
estimated by its efficiency in producing the Cynic 
type of virtue. Hence they depreciated all specula- 
tive knowledge, and only studied logic and physics, 
in as far as these sciences seemed necessary for ethical 
purposes. 2 We are not justified, in exempting even 
the founder from this judgment. 3 All that is known 



1 Diog. 31, according to Eu- 
bulus : Kare^xoy 5e ol ircudes iroXXa 
ifonyroiv koX crvyypacpecov nal rccu 
avrov ALoyevovs, ira<rav r' ecpodop 
(Tvvtojjlov irpbs rb ev/j.V7}ij.6vevarou 
i7rf}<TKet. 

2 Krische, Forsclmngen, 237. 
See Bitter, ii. 120. 

3 Although the division of phi- 
losophy into Logic, Ethics, and 
Physics can have been hardly 
introduced in the time of Anti- 
sthenes, and hence the words 
in Diog. 103 cannot be his, it 
does not thence follow that the 
statement there made is false. 
Amongst the writings of Anti- 
sthenes some are known to us, 
which would be called logical 
writings, to use a later division ; 
others are on physical subjects. 
To the first class belong Uepl 
Ae£ews, 5 AA7]0e£a, Ilept rov BiaXe- 
yecrdai, UdOoov ir) irepl rod clj/tl- 
Keyeiv, Uepl diaXetcrov, Uepl ovo- 
fxdrcov, Uepl ouo/jloltccv XP^°" 6C0S > 
Uepl epcoTTjcreojs kcu aTconpi crews, 
Uepl do^rjs kcu eiricrr^fx-qs, Ao£cu 
$1 epicTTiKbs, Uepl rov fiavdai/en/ 



TrpoPXyifiaTa. To the second, Uepl 
(ojoju (pvaecos, Uepl (pixrews, (per- 
haps the same which Cicero 
mentions N. D. i. 13, 32), 'Epw- 
TTjfjLa irepl (pvcreas. A commen- 
tary on the writings of Heraclitus. 
which Diog. ix. 15 mentions : 
does not belong to him. So little, 
however, is known of these writ- 
ings, that no conclusions can be 
arrived at which contradict the 
above assumptions. His logical 
writings, to judge by their titles, 
appear to have contained those 
polemical dissertations on con- 
ceptions, judgments, and expres- 
sions, which were required as a 
foundation for critical researches. 
Of the writings on Physics, it is 
not known whether they treat of 
other than those natural subjects, 
which Antisthenes required im- 
mediately for his Ethics, in order 
to bring out the difference be- 
tween nature and custom and 
the conditions of a life of nature. 
Even the writing irepl (wow <pu- 
creojs may have had this object. 
Probably Plato, Phileb. 4-4, C. 



NOMINALISM OF THE CYNICS. 251 

of the sentences of Antisthenes on logic, consists in Chap. 

• XIII 
a polemic against the philosophy of conceptions, the 



object of which is to prove the impossibility of 
speculative knowledge. In the same way his re- 
marks upon nature are only intended to show, what 
is natural for man. For this no deep researches 
seemed to him to be necessary ; l a healthy intelli- 
gence can tell everyone what he ought to know. Any- 
thing further he considered only useless subtlety. 

In support of these views Antisthenes put forward ^ Nomi- 
a theory, based it is true, on a leading position of nalism. 
Socrates, 2 but one which in its expanded form and in 
its sceptical results, plainly shows the disciple of 
Gorgias. As Socrates required the essence and 
conception of every object to be investigated before 
anything further could be predicated of it, so 
Antisthenes required the conceptions of things to be 
determined, that it might be known in what they 
really consist. 3 But in confining himself to this point 
of view exclusively, he arrived at the conclusion of 
the Sophists, that every object can on]y be called by its 
own peculiar name, and consequently that no pre- 

reckoned Antisthenes among the Arist. Categor. says of Antisthe- 

fxd\a Seivovs Xeyofxtvovs ra irepl nes, and what Sext. Pyrrh. iii. 

(pvcriv, only because in all qnes- 66, in general asserts of a Cynic, 

tions about morals and prevailing that he refutes the arguments 

customs, he invariably referred against motion by walking up 

to the requirements of nature. and down. 

1 Even Cicero ad Attic, xii. 3 Diog. vi. 3 : irpwrosre wpio'aro 
38, calls Antisthenes ' homo acu- Xoyov tlirwj/ • Xoyos icrrlp 6 rb ri 
tus magis quani eruditus.' l\v 97 iari d7)\oov. Alexander in 

2 Compare the relation of this Top. 24, Schol. in Arist, 256, on 
theory to the doctrine of ideas, the Aristotelian ri fy thai says 
and what Diog. 39 says of Dioge- that the simple ri i\v, which Anti- 
lies, with what the Scholiast on sthenes wanted, is not sufficient. 



252 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XIII. 



dicate can be applied to a subject which contains a 
different idea to that of the subject. Thus it can 
not be said that a man is good, but only that a man 
is human, or that the good is good. 1 And more- 
over, since every explanation of a conception con- 
sists in making one conception clearer by means 
of others, he rejected all definition, on the ground 
that it is language, which does not touch the thing 
itself. If, with regard to composite things, he 
allowed, that their component parts could be enume- 
rated, and that they could be explained in this sense, 
he insisted all the more strongly with regard to simple 
ones that this was impossible. They might be com- 
pared with others, but they could not be defined. 



1 Arist. Metaph. v. 29 : $ih 
^AvnaOevris (pero €U7]8cos /mrjdev 
d|iwj/ XeyecrBai 7t\t]u rep olKeicp 
\6yoj %v icp? kv6s ■ e£ cov <tvv4{Scui/€, 
fjii) tlvai avriXiyeiv, ax^ou Se 
pride \|/eu5ecr0cu. Alexander on 
the passage. Plato, Soph. 251, 
B. : oBev 76, officii, to?s Te veois 
Kal tcov yepSvruiv rols 6\pi/j.aB€0~i 
6oivi]v irapeo~xr)Ka(jLev • evBvs yap 
avTiAafiecrdou ttolvtI irpSxeipov cos 
aBvvarov rd Te iroAXa %u Kal to eV 
TroAAa eiuai, Kal S77 -nov x° L ^P ovo ' LV 
ovk iwvTes ayaBov Xtyeiv avQpoo-rrov, 
aWa to fx\v ayaBov ayaBov, tov 8e 
avBpooirov avBpcoirov. — Cf. Philebus 
14, C. ; Arist. Soph. El. c. 17. 
175, b. 15; Phys. i. 2. 185, b. 
25. The forward step which 
Hermann once thought to discern 
in these sentences of Antisthenes, 
seemingly proving that Anti- 
sthenes recognised all analytical 
judgments a priori to be true, 
he has been obliged to modify 



(Plat. i. 217, Ges. Abh. 239) 
on being reminded by Eitter 
(Gesch. d. Phil. ii. 133) that 
Antisthenes could only be speak- 
ing of identical judgments. But 
he still adheres to it so far as to 
state that by the teaching of. 
Antisthenes, philosophy for the 
first time gave to identical judg- 
ments an independent value. In 
what this value consists, it is 
hard to say, for nothing is gained 
by recognising identical judg- 
ments, nor has it ever occurred 
to any philosopher to deny them, 
as Hermann asserted though with- 
out quoting a single instance in 
support of it. Still less can it 
be a forward step in philosophy 
to deny all but identical judg- 
ments. Par from it, such a de- 
nial is the result of an imperfect 
view of things, and is destructive 
of all knowledge. 



NOMINALISM OF THE CYNICS. 



253 



Names might be given to them, but not conceptions 
of qualities. Their true appearance might be settled, 
but no knowledge of them could be gained. 1 The 
characteristic of a thing, however, that which, can 
never be defined, its real conception, which is borrowed 
from nothing else, and therefore can never be used 
as a predicate, consists alone in its proper name. By 
this it is known when it can be explained by nothing 
else. All that is real is strictly individual. General 
conceptions do not express the nature of things, but 
they express men's thoughts about them. The very 
same demand which Socrates had made for a know- 



Chap. 
XIII. 



1 Arist. Metaph. viii. 3 : fare 
7} airopia, %v ol 'AvriaOeveioi Kal ol 
' ovtoos cLTraidevroL rjiropovv, %X eL 
TLva Kaip6v, '6tl ovk eVrt rb t/ 
icriv opiaao'dai, rbv yap ttpov 
X6yov elvai fxanphv — see Metaph. 
xiv. 3, and Schwegler on this 
passage — aXXa iroiov \xev ri ecrnv 
evdex €TaL Kal 8i5a£ai, oooirep &p- 
yvpov ri \xev i<rriv, ou, '6ri 8' olov 
Karrirepos, o&ctt' ovcrias eo'ri fxev 
f}s evSe^erai elvai opov Kal xSyov, 
olov T7)s avvderov, edv re alcrdrjr^] 
lav re potjt^ 77 • e| oov 5' avrr] 
TTpwTcav ovk eariv. — Alexander on 
the passage, explains it more 
fully, but without adding any- 
thing fresh. That this view was 
maintained by the disciples of 
Antisthenes, appears from Plato's 
Thesetet. 201, E. : eyk yap av 
&6kovv aKOveiv nv&v c 6tl to fxev 
rrpcora woirepel aroix^ia, e£ &v 
rjmeis re (TvyKel/jLeda Kal raXXa, 
Xoyov ovk %X 0L - avrb yap Ka6* 
avrb eKaarov ovofxaaai \xovov eXrj, 
irpooreiireiv 8e obdev &XXo dvvarbv, 
ovd 1 ws tariv ov6' &S ovk ecrriv 
.... eirel ovde rb avn b ovBe rb 



eKeivo ovBe rb eKaarov ovfie rb 
fx6vovirpoo'oicrreov J oi/5' aXXairoXXa, 
roiavra • ravra fj.hu yap irepirpe- 
Xovra irao'i irpoo'<pepeo'dai, erepa 
ovra eKeivcov oJs irpocrriOerai. Se?v 
fie, elirep ^\v duvarbv avrb Xeyeo'Oai 
Kal €ixe^ oIkuou avruv Xoyov, 
avev rcov dXXcav airdvroov Xeyeo'Oai. 
vvv Se afivvarov elvai otiovv rS>v 
irpdorwv p7]Qr\vai X6yq) • ov yap 
elvai avrq> aXX* %) ovofjid^ecrdai 
fj,6vov ovofia ydp \x6vov ex 61 ?' T & 
5e €K rovroov rjb*7) cvyKei/jieva, 
Soanep avrd irerrX eKrai, otfroo Kal 
ra bvofxara ainwv crvfjLTrXaKevra 
Xdyov yeyovevar ovo\xdrm' yap 
(rvfinKoK^v elvai Xoyov ovcriav. 
And 201, C : ecpy) Se rfy /mev fiera 
Xoyov d6£av aXrjOr] eirio'rrjfjiyjv 
elvai, tV 5e dXoyov eKrbs eirt- 
(TT^ixris ' Kal S)v fxkv fx^} lari xSyos, 
ovk iiriffTriTa elvai, ovrooo'l Kal 
ovo/ndfav, a S ' ex €l > eirKTr^Ta. 
This whole description agrees 
with what has been quoted from 
Aristotle so entirely, trait for 
trait, that we cannot possibly 
refer it to any one else but 
Antisthenes. 



254 



THE S0CRAT1C SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XIII. 



ledge of conceptions was by Plato expanded into a 
system of the most decided Realism, and was de- 
veloped by Antisthenes into the barest Nominalism. 
General conceptions, he maintained, were only imagi- 
nary objects. Horses and men were seen, not however 
the conception of a horse or a man. 1 From this 
position he opened a campaign against his fellow 
pupil, with whom he was for other reasons not on 
good terms, 2 but his fire was met with corresponding 
spirit. 3 It is only natural that Antisthenes with his 



1 Simpl. in Categ. Schol. in 
Arist. 66 says : rcov 5e irdkai&v 
ol jxkv avtjpovv ras iroiorriTas 
reXeus, to iroibv ffvyx&poui/res 
^ivai (the terminology of course 
belongs to the Stoics) fccnrep 

*AvTLCrd4l/T]S, OS TT0T€ TlKaTCCVl 

dia/uLcpiaPriTaiv, * w TlkaTwv, , e<prj, 
* Xttttov fxeu opw, iTnroTTjTa 8e ovx 
6 pa)' to which Plato replied : 
True, for you have the eye with 
which you see a horse, but you 
are deficient in the eye with 
which you see the idea of horse. 
David, ibid. 68, says : 'Avri- 
GQkvr\v koX rovs 7repl avrbv Ae- 
yovras, frvOpGoirov opa> avOpcoirorrira 
5e ovx °P&- Diog. vi. 53, tells 
the same of Diogenes and Plato, 
only using rpaire^oTrjs and Kva- 
6ott)s instead of av6pcoir6T7)s. 
Ammon. in Porph. Isag. 22, says : 
5 A. eAeye ra yivt] kcli to. effirj iu 
xpiXais iiuvoiais elvcu, and then he 
mentions audpuTrorTjs and Itt-kottjs 
as examples. Plato is no doubt 
referring to this assertion of 
Antisthenes, when he raises in 
the Parm. 132, B., an objection 
to the theory of ideas, fir; rcov 
elfiwu eKacrrop f] tovtoov vorjfia kolL 
ovda/jiov avrco irpoo"f)Kr) iyyiyv€0~6ai 
&\Ao6i t) iv \jtvxcus. 



2 The character and position 
in life of the two men was widely 
different, and Plato must have 
felt himself as much repelled 
by the plebeian roughness of 
a philosopher taken from the 
masses, as Antisthenes would 
have been annoyed by the refined 
delicacy of Plato. 

3 Compare Plato, Soph. 251, 
C, and the anecdotes in Diog. 
iii. 35, vi. 7, and the correspond- 
ing ones about Plato and Dio- 
genes, which are partially fictions, 
in vi. 25; 40; 54; 58; JElian, V. 
H. xiv. 33; Theo. Progym. p. 
205 ; Stob. Ploril. 13, 37. For 
the Cynical attack which An- 
tisthenes made on Plato in his 
^ddow, see Diog. iii. 35, vi. 16; 
Athen. v. 220, xi. 507. The 
Euthydemns of Plato 301, A., 
also contains a trace of Anti- 
sthenes' polemic against the doc- 
trine of ideas. Plato there meets 
the assertion of the Sophist that 
beauty is only beautiful by the 
presence of beauty, by saying : 
4av ovv TrapayevTjTai o~oi jSovs, 
fiovs el, Ka\ or i vvv iyco ooi irapeifju 
Aiovvo~6dcapos el; We may suppose 
that Antisthenes really made 
use of the illustration of oxen, 



CONTRADICTION DENIED BY THE CYNICS. 



255 



view of the question, should have laid the greatest Chap. 

XIII 

stress upon names. 1 But by stopping at names, and L_ 

refusing to allow any further teaching about things, (d) Con- 

he in truth put every scientific enquiry out of the t ^ ad } c ^°^ 
question. This he partially admitted, when from his 
hypotheses he drew the conclusion that it was im- 
possible to contradict oneself. 2 Taken strictly those 



to which Plato then replied by 
making use of the same illus- 
tration in the person of Diony- 
sodorus. 

1 Antisth. in Epict Diss. i. 
17, 12: cipxh iraioevaecos rj rcav 
bvofidroov eiriaKe^LS. It is a pity 
that we do not know more accu- 
rately the sense and the connec- 
tion of this utterance, and hence 
we cannot judge whether it re- 
quired an individual enquiry into 
the most important names, or 
only a general enquiry into nature 
and the meaning of names, which 
the principles contained in the 
above should develope. 

2 Arist. Metaph. v. 29 ; Top. i. 
11. ovk eariv dvriXeyeiv, Kadd- 
irep %(pf] 'Avriadevys, which Alex. 
(Schol. in Arist. 732) thus ex- 
plains : uiero Oe 6 'Avriadevys eKa- 
(Ttov rcov uvrcov XeyeaOoA TU> olKetoo 
Xoycp jj.6pcp Kal eva endarov Xoyov 
elvai . . . e| 5>v Kal avvdyeiv eirei- 
paro on /XT] eariv avriXeyeiv ' robs 
fxev yap dvr ikeyovras 'Kepi rivos 
did(popa Xeyeiv b(pe(Xeiv, fih dvva- 
o~6ai 5e 7repl avrov Biacpopovs robs 
Xoyovs (pepeaBai rus eva rbv olneiov 
eKaarov eivai ' eva yap evbs elvai 
Kal rbv Xeyovra irepl avrov Xeyeiv 
fj.6vou ' Soare el fiev irepl rod irpd- 
y/jLiros rod avrov Xeyoiev, rd avra 
av Xeyoiev dXX*f)Xois (els yap o 
irepl evbs Xoyos) Xeyovres oe rav- 
rd ovk av dvrikeyoiev dXXr}Xots ' 



el 5e h*ia<pepovra Xeyoiev, ovKeri 
Xeyeiv avrobs irepl rod avrov. In 
exactly the same way Plato's 
Dionysodorus (Euthyd. 285, E.) 
establishes his assertion, that it is 
impossible to contradict ; elalv 
eKaara) roov ovrccv Xoyoi ; Haw ye. 
Ovkovv cos eariv eKaarov ^ ws ovk 
ear iv ; 'Cls eariv, Et yap \xefxvr\aai, 
e<prj, fi> Kr^aiirire, Kal dpri eneSei- 
£afjLev fxrjdeva Xeyovra cos ovk eari. 
rb yap /ult] uv ovdels ecpdvrj Xeyoov. 
Uorepov ovv . . . avriXeyoijiev 
av rod avrov irpdy/Jiaros Xoyov 
dfxcporepoL Xeyovres, ?) ovrca fxev av 
driTrov ravrd Xeyoipev ; ~2,vvex&peL. 
'AAA.' orav /JL7)0*erepos, ecpi], rbv rod 
irpdy/uiaros Xdyov Xeyrj, rore dvri- 
Xeyoifxev av ; r\ ovrco ye rb irapdwav 
ot/5 s av fjLe/uLVTHjLevos e%f) rod irpd- 
y/iiaros ovfierepos rjjmcov ; Kal rodro 
crvvccfjLoXoyei. 'AAA' dpa, orav eyclo 
Xeyco jxev rb irpay/jia, av 5e ovb*e 
Xeyeis rb irapdirav ' 6 8e {ir\ Xeyoov 
rco Xeyovri iroos av dvriXeyoL ; 
Plato probably had an eye to 
Antisthenes, although this line 
of argument can hardly come 
from him. Here too belongs 
the maxim of Antisthenes in 
Stob. Elor. 82, 8 ; to the effect 
that contradiction ought never 
to be used, but only persuasion. 
A madman will not be brought 
to his right mind by another's 
madness. Contradiction is mad- 
ness. For he who contradicts, 



256 THE SO CR A TIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. hypotheses would have led him not only to the in- 
'__ ference already drawn by Aristotle 1 that no proposi- 
tions are false, but also to the further inference that 
no propositions of any kind are possible. The teach- 
ing of Antisthenes, if taken consistently, was calcu- 
lated to do away with all knowledge and with every 
kind of judgment. 
C. Theory But the Cynics were themselves by no means dis- 
of Morals. p 0Se( j to renounce knowledge. Four books came 

(a) Good L ° 

and evil from the pen of Antisthenes, on the difference be- 
tween knowledge and opinion, 2 and the whole School 
prided itself no little on having advanced beyond the 
deceptive sphere of opinions, 3 and being in full pos- 
session of truth. With them, however, knowledge is 
directed entirely to a practical* end, its object being 
to make men virtuous, and happy in being virtuous. 
Thus the highest object in life was allowed by the 
Cynics, as by all other moral philosophers, to consist in 
happiness, 4 but happiness was not distinguished from 
virtue, at least, not to the extent to which the dis- 
tinction is generally drawn, so as to suppose it possi- 
ble without virtue, but was absolutely identified with 
virtue. To the Cynic nothing is good but virtue, 

does what is in the nature of ovros ij.Iv efifipiQecrTaTos eyevero, 

things impossible. were So^s /j,ev naTacppovetv, irpos 

1 Procl. in Crat. 37 : 'Autl- 5° a\j)Qeiav irapopfxav. Menander 
crBevr)s eKeyeu fir] de?u avriXeyeiv ' says of the same Cynic : to yap 
tvcls yap, (prjai, Xoyos aAr)devei ' viro\7]<pBev rvepov elvai ttav ecprj. 
6 yap Keycap t\ Keyei • 6 8e rl In Lncian v. Acut. 8, Diogenes 
Keycap to op Keyei ' 6 8e to op calls himself a prophet of truth 
Keycap aK-qdevei. Conf. Plato, Crat. and freedom. 

429, D. 4 Diog. ii. : avrdpKT] ttjp aper^u 

2 irepl Solaris ko.1 eTno , Ti)ix7)s i irpbs evdaijjLOpiap, so that happi- 
Diog. 17. ness is the end, and virtue the 

3 Diog. 83 says of Monimus: means. Stob. Eel. 103, 20, 21. 



CYX1C MORALS— GOOD AXD EVIL. 



257 



nothing bad but vice^ and what is neither the one nor 
the other is for man indifferent. 1 There can be but 
one good for everything — the good which belongs to 
it. 2 The only real thing which belongs to man is 
mind : 3 everything else is a matter of chance. Man's 
mental and moral powers therefore are alone free 
to act. Intelligence and virtue constitute the 
only armour which can protect man against all the 
attacks of chance/ and that man alone is free who 



Chap. 
XIII. 



1 Diog vi. 104 : optica 5' 
avTols koX reXos eTvcu to Kar 

aperrjv (fju 6:s 'AvnadEvris or,<j\v iu 
rco 'HpaKke7, duoicos toTs trrwucois. 

105 : Ta 5e juera^u ap€T?]s Kal nan'ias 
d$id(popa Xiyovo~iu duoioos " Apicrrocui 
tw Xitp. Diodes, in Diog. 12 says 
of Antisthenes : rayada KaXa. rd 
nana alaxpd. See Athen. in Diog. 
vi. 14, who addresses them — 

T H ffTCii'lKCOU Ul/duU 6t5^/i»V€S, d) 

iraudpLirra 
Zoyaara ra.7s Is pals iudifxevoi 
aeXicriu ' 
rdu apzrdv ^ivx^- s dyaObu \xbvou ' 
a5e yap du^poou 
fjLOvvd koX fiiordu pvcraro tad 
-noKids. 
Epiph.Exp.Eid. 1089. C. says of 
Diog. : e(pT](T€ rb dyaObu olarbv 
iravrl ao<b£ elvat, rd 5 J aXXa 
jraura ovBeu r) (pXvapias inrdpx*w> 

2 This maxim follows from 
Diog. 12, who states as the 
teaching of Antisthenes : rd iro- 
urjpd i6jj.L^€ irdura ^evtKa, Com- 
pare Plato, Symp. 205. E. : ov yap 
rb iavrccu, oljj.ai tKacrToi dcird- 
{ourai, et [j.ri e* tls to uhv dyaObu 
oIkz7ou KaXo7 Kal iavrov. to 5e 
KaKov d\x6rpiou. In the Charm. 
163, C. Critias says, only the use- 
ful and good is oIkuou. Although 
Antisthenes is not here men- 



tioned by name, yet the passage 
in Diogenes makes it probable 
that the antithesis of dyaObu and 
oUe7ou belongs to him, even if he 
was not the first to introduce it. 

3 Xen. Symp. 4, 34, puts the 
following words to the same ef- 
fect in the mouth of Antisthenes : 

uouifa, db dl'5p€S. TOVS duOpdjTTOVS 

oi'K iu Tcp oKko) rbu ttXovtou Kal rr\u 
ireviau ex&Vj dXX* iu tcus \pvxcus' 
this is then further expanded ; 
and Epictet. Diss. iii. 24, 68, 
makes Diogenes say of Anti- 
sthenes : e : 5:'oa|e ,ue rd ipa Kal rd 
ovk iixd ' ktt\"is ovk iur) ' crvyys- 
pe«, ouceloij <piXoi, <pr)ij.r}, crvwfjdeis, 
rorroj. $iarpi$'f}. Trdvra ravra otl 
dXXorpia. o~bu ovv ri ; XP^°" LS <p&v- 
rao'Lwu. ravTf]v e5et|e fioL otl clkcc- 
Xvrov e^cu, du zu ay Kaarou. JT.T.A. 
We have, however, certainly not 
got the very words of Diogenes 
or Antisthenes. 

4 Diog. 12 : dvatyaiperov BttXou 
apery] . . . re7xos do-^aXio-rarov 
<pp6vr,o~iu ■ u.r\rs yap Karappe7u fj.r)r€ 
wpoSiSoaQai. The same is a little 
differ entlv expressed by Epiph. 
Exp. Md. 1089,0. Diog. 63 says 
of Diogenes : ipocrr}9us ri avrcp 
Trepiyiyovsv iK (piXocro?ias, <z<pr\ ' 
ei Kal p.r\^\v dl\Xo, rb yovu irpbs 
iruvau rvxf]v -xap€G~Keva&6aL — and 



258 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XIII. 



obeys nothing external and listens to no calls from 
without. 1 

Thus man requires nothing to make him happy but 
virtue. All else he may learn to despise, so as to be- 
come content with virtue alone. 2 For what is wealth 
without virtue ? A prey for flatterers and venal 
charms, a stimulus to avarice, the root of all evil, the 
fountain of untold crimes and deeds of shame, a pos- 
session for ants and dung-beetles, without either 
glory or enjoyment. 3 Indeed what else can wealth 
be but this, if it is true that it is incompatible with 
virtue? 4 if the Cynic's beggar-life is alone the true 
path to wisdom? 5 What is honour and shame? The 



105 : ap4(TK€i avroh rvxV jur?8ei/ 
imrpeireiv. Stob. Ekl. ii. 348 : 
Aioyevrjs i(pf] bpav r)]v TvxW *v°- 
pacrav avrcp Kal Xeyovaau ' rovrou 
5' ov SvvaiJLcu I3a\€eiv kvvol Xvcto"!)- 
rrjpa. The same verse is applied 
by David, Schol. in Arist. 23, to 
Antisthenes. 

1 This is what Diogenes says 
of himself in Epict. Diss. iii. 24, 
67 ■ e| ov /a 3 'AuTiTdevris yAevde- 
paxrev, ovketl £B)L\evo~a, and he 
also asserts in Diog. 71 that he 
led the life of a Hercules, firj^eu 
i\€v8epla$ irpoKpivccu. Crates in 
Clem. Strom, ii. 413, A. praises 
the Cynics : 

r)h*opfi avdpairoficadei afiovkuToi 
Kal &Ka/jLTrroi 

aQavarov fiao-iXeiav iXevQepiav 
t' ayairuxTiv, 
and he exhorts his Hipparchia 

T&ySe Kpdrei ipvxns ^^ L aya\- 

ov& virb xP vo ~' ia}P ^ov\ov/jL€pt] 
ov& vtt ip&Tow 6r)l-nr6dow. 

2 See Diog. 105 : apeVfcei 5' 



avToh Kal Kitws fiiovv, irXovrov /cat 
d6^r]S Kal evyeveias Karatypov overt. 
Diog. 24. Epict. Diss. i. 24, 6. 

3 Antisth. in Stob. Eloril. i. 
30; 10, 42; Xen. Sym. 4, 35; 
Diog. in Diog. 47; 50; 60 ; Galen. 
Exhort, c. 7, i. 10, K. Metrocles 
in Diog. 95 ; Crates in Stob. 97, 
27; 15, 10; Ders. in Julian Or. 
vi. 199, D. 

4 Stob. Eloril. 93, 35 : Aioye- 
V7)S eKzye, /j.'fjre iv 7roAei irXovcria 
/n^re eV oIkIo, aper^y olKelv Bvua- 
crdai. Crates therefore disposed 
of his property, and is said to 
have settled it in such a way that 
it should be restored to his chil- 
dren when they ceased to be 
philosophers (Diog. 88, on the 
authority of Demetrius Magnes). 
Unfortunately, however, Crates 
can at that time have neither had 
a wife or children. 

5 Diog. 104; Diocr. in Stob. 
Eloril. 95, 1 1 ; 19. See Lucian, V. 
Auct. 11; Crates in Epiph. Exp. 
Fid. 1089, C. : ikevdepias tlvai rfy 
aKTrjjJLoo'vvrjp. 



NEGATIVE SIDE OF CYNIC MORALITY. 259 

talk of fools, about which no child of reason will Chap. 

xiii 
trouble himself ? For in truth the very opposite to '__ 

what we think is true. Honour amongst men is an 

evil. To be despised by them is a good, since it keeps 

us back from vain attempts. Glory only falls to his 

lot, who seeks her not. 1 What is death ? Clearly 

not an evil. For only what is bad 2 is an evil. And 

death we do not experience to be an evil, since we 

have no further experience when we are dead. 3 All 

these things are then only empty fancies, 4 nothing 

more. "Wisdom consists in raising one's thoughts 

above them. 5 The most worthless and the most 

harmful thing is — what men most covet — pleasure. 

Of pleasure, the Cynics not only deny that it is a good, 

but they declare it to be the greatest evil, and a saying 

is preserved of Antisthenes, that he would rather feel 

madness than pleasure. 6 Where the love of pleasure 

1 Epict. Diss. i. 24, 6 : Aioyev7)s 2 Epict. : Aeyei, on 6 Bavaros 

\4y€L, on ei>5o£ia (Winckelmann, ovk eVre kvlkov, oi>5e yap al(Txpov. 

p. 47, suggests d5o|m, which 3 Diogenes in Diog. 68. Conf. 

certainly might be expected from Cic. Tusc. i. 43, 104. Certainly 

what preceded) \\/6(pos cVt! fiaivo- the Cynic does not mean immor- 

[X€voov avOpwirow. Diog. 11 says tality here, nor does it follow 

of Antisth. : r-qu t' d5o|iW dyadbv from the remark of Antisthenes 

kcl\ "gov tw Trove?, and 72 : evye- on II. xxiii. 15 (Schol. Venet.) to 

i/etas 5e Kai do£as ncu ra roiavra the effect that the souls have the 

iravrcL SteVat^e (Diogenes), irpoKo- same forms as their bodies. 

(TfJL^fjLara kclkiols ehai Keycav. In 41 4 Or as the Cynic technically 

he speaks of So^tjs e^avQi]fxara. In calls it, mere smoke, rvcpos. 

92 : eXeye 5e (Crates) /x4 x pL rov- See Diog. 26, 83, 86. 

rovde7v (piKoo'ocpe'iu, ixexpi-av di'^cc- 5 Clement. Strom, ii. 417, B. 

ffiv ol arparriyol ehai bv-qXarai. (Theod. Cur. Gr. Aff. xi. 8.): 

Compare also 93. Doxopater in 'Ai/ricrdevris n\v t V aTvcpiav (reAos 

Aphthon. c. 2, Ehet. Gr. i. 192, airecpyvei). 

says that Diogenes, in answer to 6 Diog. vi. 3 : eAe7e re (rvve- 

the question, How is honour to be %4s ' fj.aveir)v fxaAXov fj yaQeiriv. 

gained ? replied ' By not troubling lb. ix. 101 [y rjoovr] 5o£d£eTcu] 

yourself at all about it.' Kanbv vtf 'hvno-Qkvovs. The same 

S 2 



260 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XIII. 



gives rise to unbridled passion, as in love, there no 
means can be too violent to eradicate it. 1 And on 
the contrary, what most men are afraid of, labour 
and toil, are good, because labour and toil alone 
bring man to a healthy state, and thus make him 
independent. 2 Hercules 3 is thus the patron saint and 
pattern for the Cynic, 4 because no one fought his 



in Gell. ix. 5, 3 ; Clement. Stro- 
mat. ii. 412, D. ; Eus. Pr. Ev. xv. 
13, 7 (Theod. Cur. Gr. Aff. xii. 
47). Conf. Diog. vi. 8, 14. Plato 
is no doubt referring to this 
Cynical dictum, Phileb. 44, C. : 
Xiav /ne /juari kotow rrji/ rr\s Tjdovrjs 
Bvvafiiv Kal vevofxiKoroou ovdev 
vyies, ware Kal avrb tovto clvttjs 
to iiraycoybv yo-fiTev/xa oi>x t)5ovt]v 
ehai, and Arist. Eth. x. 1 : ol 
jxev yap Tayadbu 7]dovT]u Xeyovo-ii/, 
ol 5' e£ evavrias KO/Mdrj (pavXov. 
lb. vii. 12 : toTs jxkv ovv BoKel 
ov$€/jLLa 7]^ov)) eivai ayadbv ovre 
Kad' avrb ovre Kara o~vfi$e$T]K6s ■ 
ov yap eivai ravrbv ayaQbv Kal 
TjBourjj/. 

1 Clement. 406, C. ; #y«b 5e 
airodexofxaL rbv ' Avno~dei'7)i' i rr\v 
'A(ppo^irr}u, Xeyovra, kolv Kara- 
ro^evcrai/jLL, it XafioLui • on iroXXas 
f)iuwv KaXas Kal ayadas yvvalKas 

dL€(j>d€Lp€V. TOV T€ epCOTa KaKiaU 

<pr]al (pvcrecos' 7j? Vjttovs ovres ol 
KaKoSat/AOves debu rr]u poffov Ka- 
Xovo'iv. Crates in Diog. vi. 86 ; 
Clement. Strom, ii. 412, D. ; Ju- 
lian, Or. vi. 198, D.: 

e peer a Travel Xifids, el Be yu.77, 
Xpovos ' 

iav Be tovtols fxr] Bvj/rj, xpVO'Sai 
PpSxos. 
On the same subject compare 
also Diog. vi 38; 51 ; 67 ; Stob. 
Eloril. 64, 1 ; 6, 2; 18, 27 ; Diog. 
66 : roi/5 p.ev o'tKiras e<prj to7s 



Beo"jr6raLS % rovs Be cpavXovs rats 
eTndvfxiaLS BovXeveiv. 

2 Diog. vi. 2, says of Anti- 
sthenes : Kal on 6 irovos ayaObu 
o~vi/earrj(Te Bta rod /meyaXov 'Hpa- 
KXeous Kal rov Kvpov. Diogenes 
says in Stobaeus (App. to Gais. 
Ekl. ii. 13, 87) that boys ought 
to be educated by abstemiousness, 
as long as they are susceptible 
of culture, if they are to come to 
any good. 

3 Who had also a temple near 
Cynosarges. 

4 Antisthenes speaks of two 
Hercules, Diog. 2, 18. Dio- 
genes says of himself in Diog. 
71 : rbv avrbv yapaKTr\pa rov 
fiiov Bie^dyeiv ovrrep Kal 'HpaKXrjs, 
fiTlhev eXevdepias TvpoKpivoov. There- 
fore Eus. Pr. Ev. xv. 13, 7, calls 
Antisthenes 'HpaKAecoriKos ns 
au7]p rb <pp6vT)fj.a, and in Lucian, 
V. Auct. 8, Diogenes replies to 
the query as to whom he was 
imitating : rbv 'HpaKAea, at the 
same time showing his stick for 
a club, and his philosopher's 
cloak for a lion's skin, with the 
addition, which probably comes 
from a Cynic writing: o~rparevo- 
fxai tie &o"nep eKeTuos enl ras 
7)5ovas . . . iKKadapai rbv &iov 
irpoaipovixevos, . . . eXevdepaorris 
el/XL r&v avOpwiroop Kal larpbs rwu 
iraQwv. See Julian, Or. vi. 187, 
C. 



LATER CYNICS LESS RIGID. 261 

way through a life of toil and trouble for the good Chap. 
of mankind with so much courage as he did. Anti- ^j^ 111 - _ 
sthenes appears to have supported his view of plea- 
sure bv aroriiinof that pleasure is nothing but rest 
after fatigue, 1 On this supposition it would of course 
appear absurd to pursue pleasure : for pleasure can 
never be attained, except by having previously ex- 
perienced a corresponding amount of pain. 

Antisthenes was led to this rigid development of the 
principles of the Cynics partly by his own natural 
temperament. 2 and partly by considering 3 asceticism 
valuable as a means of training. But later Cynics 
so far departed from this rigid rule as to recognise a 
certain kind of pleasure to be legitimate. Pleasure 
which is not followed by remorse. 4 or more strictly, 
pleasure resulting from labour and effort, 5 is said to 

1 Plato, Phileb. 44, B., speaks kcu ex 6iI/ .- ol Se oiofAtvoi fSsXriov 
of people, whom lie describes as ehai irjbs rbv filou r,(xu}v ano<pa(- 
fxd\a teivobs Xeyojxivovs rd irep] veiv rr\v rjdovr\v rcav (pavXccu, Kal 
(pvaiv. ol. roirapdirav 7]Bovds ov el fj.7] kariv ■ peireiv yap robs 
§ao~iv elvai, for they maintain ttoWovs irpbs avr7)u Kal BovXeveiv 
Xvirocv ravras elvai irdaas diro- rats rjtiovcus, 5ib 5e?j/ els rovvavriov 
(pw)ds as vvv ol Trepl $iXr\$ov dyeiv ' eXdelv yap av ovrus ew\ to 
7]Bovas iirovofidCovaiv. This pas- fxeaov. Diog. xi. 35 : /j-tfieTcrdaL, 
sage refers without doubt to An- e\eye (Aioy4vr]s) robs x°P u ^ L ^ a - 
tisthenes. TVendt (Phil. Cyren. (TKaXovs ■ Kal yao ene'ivovs virep 
17, 1) is wrong in applying it to rovov ivtiib*6: ai eVfKa rod robs 
philosophers who declare freedom Xoiirobs d^aadai rod irpoo~r\Kovros 
from pain to be the highest good, rovov. 

2 Plato continues : rovrois ovv 4 Athen. xii. 513, a : s Avtl- 
7]/j.as noTspa ireiQecrdai avfifiov- gQ4vt)s 5e rhu 7]^ovt]v ayaQbv elvai 
Xeveis. rj iruis, cc ^dcnoares : — Ovk, <pdo~Kccv. irporredrjKe rrju ajjLeratyi- 
d/\A' oi'cnrep }xdvrs<n irpocrxpTJo-Qai Xtjtov, but we require to know 
ricri, /j.avrevoijL4vois ov rex~ y. d\Xa the context in which Antisthenes 
rivi Bvo~x € P €ia (pvvews 0VK *7*V m uttered this. 

vovs, Xlav. k.t.\. 5 Antis. in Stob. Plor. 29, 65 : 

3 Arist. Eth. x. 1 : Some hold Tjfiovds ras t u€rd robs irovovs Bico- 
pleasure to be altogether a mis- ktcop, aXX 3 ovxl ^as vpb rwv iro- 
take : ol /xhv Xcrws ireireKrixevoi ovroo voov. 



XIII 



262 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. have been called a good, even by Antisthenes. In 
Stobseus, 1 Diogenes recommends justice as the most 
useful and at the same time as the most pleasant 
thing, because it alone affords peace of mind, protects 
from trouble and sickness, and even secures bodily 
enjoyments. He also asserts, 2 that happiness consists 
in that true joy, which can only be obtained by an 
unruffled mental calm. And when the Cynics wished 
to assert the superiority of their philosophy, they did 
not fail to follow in the steps of Socrates, by asserting 
that their life was far more pleasant and independent 
than that of other men, that their abstemiousness 
sharpened their powers of appreciating enjoyment, 
and that mental delights afforded a far higher plea- 
sure than sensual ones. 3 At the same time this lan- 
guage only proves, that their theory was imperfectly 
developed, and that their mode of expression was 
inaccurate. Their meaning was that pleasure as such 

1 Floril. 9, 49 ; 24, 14, where a pleasant day, he needed not to 
probably the Cynic Diogenes is purchase materials for it in the 
alluded to. Whether the words market, but he had them ready 
are taken from a genuine writing in the soul. Diogenes in Diog. 
of his, is the question. 71, speaks in a similar strain: 

2 Ibid. 103, 20; 21. he who has learned to despise 

3 Thus in Xen. Symp. 4, 34, pleasure, finds therein his highest 
where the description appears on pleasure, and in Plut.De Exil. 12, 
the whole to be true, Antisthenes he congratulates himself on not 
proves that in his poverty he having, like Aristotle, to wait for 
was the happiest of men. He Philip for breakfast. Plut. Tran- 
enjoved his food, his drink, and quil. An. 4, says that Crates 
his sleep. Better clothes he did passed his life in jesting and 
not need. And in other ways joking, like one perpetual festival; 
he had more enjoyment than he and Metrocles (in Plutarch as 
liked. He needed so little, that Diogenes in Lueian V. Auct. 9) 
he never was in trouble for sup- blesses himself for being happier 
port. He had leisure to associate than the Persian king. See 
with Socrates, and if he wanted Diog. 44, 78. 



POSITIVE SIDE OF CYNIC MORALITY. 



263 



ought in no case to be an end, 1 and that when it is any- Chap. 

VTTT 

thing but a natural consequence of action and of satis- __^___L_ 
fying our most essential wants, it should be avoided. 

From these considerations followed the conclusion, 
that everything excepting virtue and vice is in- 
different for us, and that we ought to be indifferent 
to everything. Only those who rise above poverty and 
wealth, shame and honour, ease and fatigue, life and 
death, and who are prepared to submit to any con- 
dition and state in life, who fear no one, and trouble 
themselves about nothing — only such as these can 
be secure against misfortunes; only such as these 
can be free and happy. 2 

These are however, as yet, only the negative con- (£) Virtue. 
ditions of happiness. What then is the positive side 



1 As Hitter, ii. 121, has re- 
marked, the difference between 
the teaching of Antisthenes and 
that of Aristippus might be 
thus expressed : Aristippus con- 
sidered the result of the emotion 
of the soul to be the good ; Anti- 
sthenes considered the emotion 
itself to be the end, and that the 
value of the action lay in the doing 
of it. Ritter, however, asks with 
justice whether Antisthenes ever 
went back so far as this, since 
it is never distinctly imputed 
to him. And in the same way 
it will be foimd that Aristip- 
pus never regarded pleasure as 
a state of rest, but as a state 
of motion for the soul. The 
contrary is not established by 
what Hermann, Ges. Abh. 237, f. 
alleges. Hermann proves, it is 
true, that Antisthenes considered 
the good to be virtuous activity, 
and that Aristippus took it to be 
pleasure, but he does not prove 



that Antisthenes and Aristippus 
spoke in explicit terms of the rest 
and the motion of the soul. 

2 Diog. in Stob. Floril. 86, 19, 
says the noblest men are ol Kara- 

typOVOVVTCS TTXoVTOV do^TjS 7)doP7}S 

£oorjS, 7001/ Se ivavriw virepdi/u) 
oVres, irevias a5o£i'a9 irouov 8a- 
varov. Diog. 29 says of the 
same ; iirrjvei robs fxeXXouras 7a- 
fxuv Kal /J.7] yafieiv, Kal robs jtteA- 
Xovras KarairXelv Kal (jltj Kara-nXeiv, 
Kal robs fieXXovras iro\tT*v€(r8ai 
Kal /j.i] TroXiTev€o~dai, Kal robs nai- 
dorpo(pe7i/ Kal /j.7] 7rai$OTpo<pe?i/, Kal 
robs 7rapao~Keva£oiJ.€j/ovs crvjj.^iovy 
ro7s Buvdffrais Kal fxrj irpoaioj/ras. 
Crates, ibid. 86, says that what 
he had gained by philosophy was 
Qepfxwv re x°^ VL l KaL ro f^V^^bs 
fiexeiv. Antis. in Stob. Floril. 
8, 14: oo~ris $e kripovs ZedoiKe 
dovXos faf XeXrjdev iavrov. Dio- 
genes in Diog. 75: dovXov rb 
(po&£io~dai. 



XIII. 



264 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. corresponding to them ? It has been seen that virtue 
alone brings happiness, and that the goods of the 
soul are alone worth possessing, but in what does 
virtue consist? Virtue, replies Antisthenes, in the 
language of Socrates and Euclid, consists in know- 
ledge or in intelligence, 1 and Eeason is the only 
thing which gives a value to life. 2 Hence he con- 
cludes as his teacher had done before him, that virtue 
is one and indivisible, 3 that the same moral problem 
is presented to every class of men, 4 and that virtue 
is the result of teaching. 5 But he also maintains 
that virtue is a possession which will endure, for what 
is once known can never be forgotten. 6 He thus 
bridges over a gulf in the teaching of Socrates by 
creating a system which is due to the influence of 
Sophistical views 7 no less than to the dictates of a 
practical instinct, which makes virtue in itself in- 

1 This follows from Diog. 13 : 5 Diog. 10 : SifiaKT^v aireb einvve 
Te?x°* hcrcpaXeararov <ppovf](nv . . . ('Aj/t iffdevrjs) r)]v aper^v. 105 : 
T€i%7) Kara(TK6vaareou ev rats av- apeanei 8' avrols kcl\ tV aperrjv 
twv avaXdorois XoyiffpLots, if we 8i5a/crV eivai, Ka6d (prjaiv 'Apti- 
connect with it his maxims about aBevris ev r§ 'HpatcXe?, ko\ avairS- 
the oneness and the teachableness PXyrov v-zapxeiv. 
of virtue, and his doctrine of the 6 Diog. 12: avcKpalperov oirXov 
wiseman. r) aperi). Xen. Mem. i. 2, 19: 

2 Compare the saying attri- foots oZv efaoiev av iroXXol ra>v 
buted to Antisthenes in Plut. (pavKovroov <pi\ocro<peiv, on ovk &v 
Sto. Rep. 14, 7, and to Diogenes irore 6 dinaios aminos yevoiro, ovb*e 
in Diog. 24 : els rbv fiiov 7rape- 6 craxpocoi/ vfipiffrris, ovde aXXo 
(TK6vdo~dou Setv x6yov $ fip6xov> ovdeu, £>v fj-dOrjcis itrriv^ 6 fiadcav 

3 Schol. Lips, on IL O. 123 : avemffTTiixoiv av irore ylvmro. 
3 Avt lctO evr) s (prjaiv, cos e'er itt parr ei 7 The maxim that nothing 
o ao<pbs Kara irao'av aperty evep- once known can ever be forgotten 
yei. is the counterpart to the sophis- 

4 Diog. 12 according to Dio- tical maxim, that nothing can 
cles : avdpbs kcl\ yvvambs q avr^ be learnt which is not already 
apery. known. 



CYNIC MORALS— VIRTUE. 265 

dependent of everything external. 1 But the Cynics Chap. 



could not say more precisely in what real knowledge 
consisted. If it was described as knowledge con- 
cerning the good, this as Plato justly observed, 2 was 
little else but a tautology. If on the other hand, 
virtue was described as consisting in unlearning what 
is bad, 3 this negative expression does not convey us a 
single step further. So much alone is clear, that the 
knowledge of Antisthenes and his School, is the same 
as a right state of will, of strength, of self-government 
and of uprightness ; and this brings us back to the 
Socratic doctrine of the oneness of virtue and know- 
ledge. Thus, when they spoke of learning virtue, 
they understood moral exercise rather than intel- 
lectual research. 4 They would not have recognised 

1 It is only independent of rod . . . ri irotccv KaXbs KayaObs 
external circumstances, when it eaoiro, ecpr] • ei ra kolkol a e^cf? 
cannot be lost : for since the on cpevKrd ean /jicidois rca^a rcov 
wise and virtuous man will never, elboTcav. Ibid. 7 • epwrridels ri 
as long as he continues wise and rcov pLaB^jxaroov av ay Kaiorarov, 
virtuous, wish to forgo his wisdom e(pr), rb /ca/ca airoixaQelv. The 
and virtue, and since according same is found in Stob. Ekl. ed. 
to the teaching of Socrates, no Grais. App. ii. 13, 34. 

one intentionally does wrong, it 4 Here it may be sufficient to 

follows that knowledge can only call to mind what Diogenes in 

be taken away by a cause foreign Diog. 70 says : dirrrjv 5 s eAeyev 

to the will of the individual. ehai rr\v aaKTjo'ii', ri\v fxev \pvxi- 

2 Plato, Hep. vi. 505, B. : aAAci k4)v, rr\v 8e acafxanK^p • ravr-qv 
fi^v r6de ye olo~6a, on rots fxev . . . /cat? 5 %v ev yvfivaaia avvex^ts 
7roAAoTs 7]doP^] 8o/cet e\vai rb ay a6ov, yLvojievai at (pavraalai evAvoriap 
ro7s 8e Ko/jL^/orepoLS (ppdj/rjcris .... irpbs ra rys aperr\s epya irapi- 
Kal '6ri ye, §> (pi\e, ol rovro fjyov- xovrai' elvai 8 s dreKri riy erepav 
fxevoi ovk exovai 8e?£ai ^\rts <ppo- x w P^ s T V S ertpas . . . iraperidero 
vrja'LS, aAA 5 avayKaQovrai reXev- 8e reK/ji^pia rod pafiioos airb rys 
roovres rr]v rov ayaOov (pdvai. If yvfjvao'ias ev rfj apery narayi- 
the Cynics are not here exclu- veaQai • for in every art practice 
sively meant, the passage at any makes perfect ; ovbev ye /jl7,v 
rate refers to them in particular. e\eye rb irapdirav ev r<£ /3io> x°°P^ s 

3 Diog. 8, according to Pha- dffK^aecos KaropOovaOai, hvvar^i 
nias : ('Ai/rio~devr}S) epa)r7]9e\s virb 8e ravrrjv irav eKvucrjaai. 



XIII. 



266 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. the Platonic and Aristotelian distinction between a 
" conventional and a philosophical, an ethical and an 



intellectual virtue ; and in answer to Meno's ! ques- 
tion, whether virtue was produced by exercise or 
instruction, they would have replied, that exercise 
was the best instruction. 
(7) Wis- He who has attained to virtue by the help of the 

dom and ^ i_ • • • -r* ^ 

Folly. Cynic teaching, is a wise man. livery one else is 
lacking in wisdom. In describing the advantages of 
the one, and the misery of the other, no words are 
too strong for the Cynics. The wise man never suffers 
want, for all things are his. He is at home every- 
where, and can accommodate himself to any circum- 
stances. Faultless and love-inspiring, he is unmoved 
by fortune. 2 An image of the divinity, he lives with 
the Grods. His whole life is a festival, and the Grods, 
whose friend he is, bestow on him everything. 3 The 
opposite is the case with the bulk of mankind, most 
of whom are mentally deformed, the slaves of fancies, 
and divided only by a very narrow line from mad- 
men. To find a real man, the Cynics thought it was 
necessary to search with a lantern in broad daylight. 

1 Plato, Meno, init. ayaOovs &p$pas Bechv elnSpas chat. 

2 Diog. 11: avrdpKr] *f" elpai Ibid. 37a 72 : tqop 6ea>p £cti iravra' 
top cocpop ■ "navTa yap avTod eivai (pihoi 5e oi cocpoX toIs Qeols • icoiva 
tol rcov olKKoiv. Ibid. 12 : Top Se tcl Twv (piAojv. iravT doa £o~t\ 
(ro<f>£ £evoi> ovdep ov& diropop. tccp oo<pcop. Diog. in Plut. Tran. 
a£i€pao~Tos 6 dyaOos. Ibid. 105: An. 20: dpr]p dya6bs ov iraarav 
d\ikpa<jTOv T€ top aocpbv nal di^a- r]fxepdp eoprrjp rjye^Tai ; Stob. Ekl. 
/j.dpT7]Tou KalcpiXov to) 6/j.oica, tvxv ed. Qais. App. ii. 13, 76 : 'Apti- 
T6 fj.yo'ep eirLTpeireip. But Dio- aOeprjs ipoor^Beh inrb twos tl Si- 
genes, in Diog. 89, allows that 5a£ei tov viop, elirep • el pep 6eo7s 
no one is perfectly free from jueAAci cv/jl^iovp, (pi\6o~o<pop, H 5e 
faults. apdpojnoLs, pi)ropa. 

3 Diogenes, in Diog. 51 : tovs 



RESULTS OF CYNIC TEACHING. 267 

Misery and stupidity are the universal fate of mortals. 1 Chap. 
All mankind are divided into two classes. Innumerable x 



fools stand opposite to a small number of wise men. 
A small minority alone is happy in intelligence and 
virtue. The rest live in misfortune and folly, and, 
to add to their misfortune, only the smallest part of 
them are conscious of their deplorable state. 

Following out these principles, the Cynics con- c. The 
ceived it to be their special mission to make them- l^actwal 

r effects of 

selves patterns of strict morality, of abstemiousness, their teach- 
of the independence of the wise man, and also to m ^' 
exercise a beneficial and strengthening influence on 
the minds of others. To this mission they devoted 
themselves with extraordinary self-denial, but at 
the same time they fell into such extravagances and 
absurdities, such open coarseness, utter shamelessness, 
overbearing self-conceit, and empty boasting, that it 
is hard to say whether their strength of mind rather 
calls for our admiration, or their eccentricities for our 
derision ; whether they ought to command our esteem, 
our dislike, or our commiseration. Our previous 
enquiries will, however, make it possible for us to 

1 Diog, 33 : dvair^povs ^\€ye Ibid. 27 : men lie had found 

(Atoyepris) ov robs kwQovs nal nowhere, but boys he had found 

rvQXobs, a\Aa robs pM exovras in Lacedsemon. Ibid. 41 : The 

ir-npav. Ibid. 35 : robs irXeio-rovs story of Diogenes with his lan- 

ekeye irapa daKrvAov /j.aiv€o-6ai. tern. Ibid, 86 : verses of Crates 

Ibid. 47 : robs p^ropas kcli irdi/ras on the stupidity of mankind. 

robs ivSo^oKoyovvras rpioravOpdo- Compare also Stob. Floril. 4, 52. 

ttovs a.TT€Kd\€i dvn rod rpio-a6\lovs. Diogenes in Diog. Ekl. ed. Grais. 

Ibid. 71 : Instead of becoming App. ii. 13, 75, says that the 

happy by the practice of virtue, vilest thing upon earth is a man 

men irapd tV dvoiav KaKodai/uLo- without culture. Either Diogenes 

vovo~i. Ibid. 33 : irpbs rov elirovra- or Philiscus asserts in Stob, 

UvOia ulkco dvdpas, eycb fxkv ovv, Flor. 22, 41 : 6 rvcpos cbo-ircp iroi- 

e?7T€J', dvdpas, o~b 5' di/SpdiroSa. priv ov 0eAei \robs iroWobs] &yei» 



268 ; THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS, 

Chap, trace back these various peculiarities to the one 
— common source. 



renuncia- 
tion. 



(a) Self- The leading thought of Cynicism is the self-suffi- 

ciency of virtue. Crude and unsatisfactory as was 
their conception of this maxim, the Cynics were not 
content with a mere inward independence of the en- 
joyments and wants of life. Their aim they thought, 
could only be realised by an entire renouncement of 
all enjoyment, by limiting their wants to what was 
absolutely indispensable, by blunting their feelings to 
outward impressions, and by cultivating indifference 
to all that was not in their own power. The 
being independent of wants 1 on which Socrates had 
insisted, became with them a renunciation of the world. 
Poor to begin with, 2 or renouncing their property 
voluntarily, 3 they lived as beggars. 4 Possessing no 
houses of their own, they passed the day in the 
streets or in other public places. The nights they 
spent in porticoes, or wherever else chance might 

1 According to Diog. vi. 105, beggar's guise ; nor is the truth 
Diogenes repeated the language of his account impugned by Sosi- 
whieh we saw Socrates used. To crates, who says that Diodore of 
the same effect is the story that Aspendus was the first to do so ; 
Diogenes refused to look for a run- for this statement is not to be 
away slave, at the beginning of trusted. In Diog. 22, Diogenes 
his Cynic career, because he is described with great proba- 
could do without his slave as bility as the originator of the 
well as the slave could do without full mendicant garb, and he is 
him. Diog. 55 ; Stob. Floril. 62, also said to have been the first 
47. to gain his living by begging. 

2 Such as Antisthenes, Dio- Diog. 38 ; 46 ; 49 ; Teles, in Stob. 
genes, and Monimus. Flor. v. 67 ; Hieron. adv. Jovin. 

3 Such as Crates and Hip- ii. 207. His followers Crates 
parchia. (Diog. 85 ; 90) and Monimus 

4 According to Diodes in Diog. (Diog. 82) adopted the same 
vi. ]3, Antisthenes already as- course, 
sumed the staff and scrip, the 



CYNIC PRACTICE— RENUNCIATION OF SELF. 



269 



guide them. 1 Furniture they did not need. 2 A bed 
seemed superfluous. 3 The simple Greek dress was 
still further simplified by them, and they were con- 
tent with the tribon of Socrates, the ordinary dress 
of the lower orders, 4 without any underclothing. 5 In 



Chap. 
XIII. 



1 Diogenes must have been the 
first to do so. For Antisthenes 
in Xen. Symp. 4, 38, still speaks 
of having a house, although its 
furniture was confined to the 
bare walls. Diogenes, however, 
and the later Cynics lived as de- 
scribed. See Diog. 22 ; 38 ; 76 ; 
105; Teles. Hieron. Lucian, V. 
Auct. 9. Diogenes for a time 
took up his abode in a tub at 
Athens, as had been done by 
homeless folk before. Diog. 23 ; 
43; 105; Sen. Ep. 90, 14. But 
it cannot have been as Juvenal 
xiv. 208, and Lucian, Consc. His. 
3, represent it, that he spent 
his whole life there without any 
other home, and even carried his 
tub about with him, as a snail 
does its shell. It is probably 
true that he jokingly said, that 
the door of his comfortable 
house could be turned to suit the 
wind. Diog. 52 does not contra- 
dict this. See Steinhart, p. 302 ; 
G-ottling Ores. Abh. 258 and 
Briicker. Equally fictitious is 
the romantic story that Crates 
and Hipparchia lived in a tub. 
Simp, in Epict. Enchir. p. 270. 

2 The story that Diogenes 
threw away his cup, when he 
had seen a boy drinking with the 
hollow of his hand, is well known. 
Diog. 37 ; Plut. in Yirt. 8 ; Sene- 
ca, Ep. 90, 14. He is also re- 
ported to have trampled on Plato's 
costly carpets with the words, irarw 
rhv TWarwvos rvcpov, to which 



Plato replied, krepyys rv<pcp, Aio- 
yeves. Diog. 26. 

3 Antisthenes in Xen. Symp. 
4, 38, is heard to boast that he 
slept admirably on the simplest 
bed. And the fragment in De- 
met, de Elocut. 249, belongs here. 
As far as Diogenes and Crates 
are concerned, they slept, as a 
matter of course, on the bare 
ground, as the poor in Greece, 
often did, and as is often done 
now in southern climates. 

4 That is at Athens ; at Sparta 
the rpifiwv was universal (Gott- 
ling, 256 ; Hermann, Antiquit.iii. 
§ 21) from which it will be seen, 
that the word did not originally 
mean something worn out, but a 
rough dress which rubbed the 
skin, an Ifidriov rpifiov not an 
ifiariov T€Tpijj.jj.€vou, and that tfid- 
tiqv Tpifloov y€v6/ji€vou in Stob. 
Eloril. v. 67, means a covering 
which had grown rough. 

3 This was the way of the poor 
in other instances. Antisthenes, 
however, or Diogenes according 
to others made this dress the 
characteristic dress of the Cynic, 
allowing the rpifiwv to be doubled 
for better protection against the 
cold. Diog. 6; 13; 22; 76; 105. 
The Cynic ladies adopted the 
same dress, Diog. 93. This sin- 
gle article of dress was often in 
the most miserable condition. 
See the anecdotes about Crates, 
Diog. 90, and the verses on him, 
ibid. 87- Because of the self- 



270 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XIII. 



scantiness of diet they even surpassed the very limited 
requirements of their fellow countrymen. 1 It is said 
that Diogenes tried to do without fire, by eating his 
meat raw, 2 and he is credited with saying that every- 
thing without exception, human flesh included, might 
be used for purposes of food. 3 'Even in extreme age 
he refused to depart from his accustomed manner of 
living, 4 and lest his friends should expend any 
unnecessary trouble on his corpse, he forbad their 
performing any funeral rites whatever. 5 A life in 
harmony with nature, 6 the suppression of everything 
artificial, the simple satisfaction of all natural wants, is 
the watchword of his School. To attain to it, bodily 



satisfaction with which Anti- 
sthenes exposed to view the holes 
in his cloak, Socrates is said to 
have observed that his vanity 
peeped through them. Diog. 8. 

1 Their ordinary food consisted 
of bread, figs, onions, garlic, lin- 
seed, but particularly of the 9ep- 
fioi, or beans of some kind. Their 
drink was cold water. Diog. 
1 05 ; 25 ; 48 ; 85 ; 90 ; Lucian, V. 
Auct. 9; Dio Chrys. Or. vi. 12. 
But in order to prove their free- 
dom, they occasionally allowed a 
pleasure to themselves and others. 
Diog. 55 ; Arist. Or. xxv. 560. 

2 Diog. 34; 76; Pseudo-Plut, 
de Esu Cam. i. 6 ; Dio Chrys. Or. 
vi. 25. 

3 In Diog. 73, it is sup- 
ported by the argument, that 
everything is in everything else, 
even flesh in bread, &c. Diog. 
refers for this to a tragedy of 
Thyestes, the writer of which was 
not Diogenes but Philiscus. A 
similar statement was subse- 
quently made by the Stoics. 



4 See Diog. 34. 

5 See the accounts which differ 
in details in Diog. 79 ; 52 ; Cic. 
Tusc. i. 43, 104; JElian, V. H. 
viii. 14; Stob. Floril. 123, 11. 
The same is repeated by Chry- 
sippus in Sext. Pyrrh. iii. 248 ; 
Math. xi. 194. 

6 Which Diogenes required, as 
for instance when he said, Diog. 
71 *. Seoy ovv avr\ toov axp^wv 
iroi/oev tovs Kara (pvcriv eAofievovs 
Qjv ebhcuiiovws, wapa tt)v avoiav 
KaKoSaifiovovai. 

7 Compare the expressions of 
Diogenes in Diog. 44 ; 35 ; Stob. 
Floril. 5, 41 ; 67, the hymn of 
Crates on eirreAeia, and his prayer 
to the Muses in Julian Or. vi. 
199, in addition to what Pint, de 
Sanit. 7, p. 125, Diog. 85; 93, 
and Stobseus tell of him. Com- 
pare also Lucian V. Auct. 9, and 
the anecdote of the mouse, the 
sight of which confirmed Dio- 
genes in his renunciation of the 
world in Plut. Prof, in Virtut, 6 ; 
Diog. 22, 40. 



CYNIC PRACTICE— REXUXCIATIOX OF SELF. 



271 



and mental hardships were submitted to on principle. 1 
It is said that when his teacher did not appear to 
treat him with sufficient severity, 2 Diogenes im- 
posed on himself a severe discipline. 3 The scorn 
and contempt which this manner of life could not 
fail to attract, were borne by the Cynics with the 
greatest composure. 4 They accustomed themselves 
to contumely 5 on the ground that the reproaches of 
enemies teach man to know himself, 6 and they 
thought that the best way of taking revenge on ene- 
mies, was to amend one's faults. 7 In case life should 
become insupportable from any reason, they reserved 
to themselves the right of securing their freedom by 
suicide, as the Stoics did at a later time. 8 



Chap. 
XIII. 



1 Diog. 30. Perhaps Diogenes' 
training may have been described 
by Eiibuliis in the same glowing 
terms that that of Cyrus was by 
Xenophon. Stob. Ekl. ed. G-aisf. 
App. ii. 13, 68 ; 67. Diogenes in 
Stob. Eloril. 7, 18, expresses the 
view that mental vigour is the 
only object of all exercise, even 
that of the body. 

2 Dio Chrys. Or. viii. 2 ; conf. 
Diog. 18. 

3 "According to Diog. 23; 34, 
he rolled in the summer in the 
burning sand, and in winter he 
walked barefoot in the snow, and 
embraced icy columns. On the 
other hand, Philemon's words 
about Crates in Diog. 87, that he 
went about wrapped up in sum- 
mer and in rags in winter, are 
probably only a comedian's jest 
on his beggarly covering. 

4 Antisthenes in Diog. 7, re- 
quires ; KaKCCS clkovovtcls KapTt- 
psiv fxaWou r) si hidois tis /3aA * oito. 



He also says in Epict. Diss. iv. 
6, 20 : fiaaiXiKov, w Kvpe, irpd-r- 
reiv fieis ed. kclkus 5 1 aKoveiv. It 
is said of Diogenes, Diog. 33, and 
also of Crates, Diog. 89, that 
when his body had been ill-treat- 
ed, he only wrote by the side of his 
wounds the names of those by 
whom they had been inflicted. 

5 Diog. 90 says of Crates, ras 
iropi/as iTTiTTides i\otdop€i, crvy- 
yv,uj/dCooj/ eavrop irphs ras /3Aa- 
(T(pT)(j.ias. 

6 Antisthenes remarks, Diog. 
12 : 7rpo(7"6^;6ii/ ro7s ix^po^s' irpu- 
toi -yap T&V a.}xapTT]{x6.Toov alcrdd- 
vovtcli. The same person also 
says in Plut. Inim. Util. 6 : rols 
yueAAou(Ti aco^ecrdai t) cpiKcov Set 
^j/rjcricLV 7) diairvpoov ix^pcou. 

7 Diog. in Plut. Inimic. UtiL 
4. 

s When Antisthenes in his 
last illness became impatient 
under his sufferings, Diogenes 
offered him a dagger (Diog. 18) 



272 THE SO CR A TIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. Among external things of which it is necessary to 

be independent, the Cynics included several matters 



(b) Renun- which other men are in the habit of regarding as 

ciation of ° 

social life, morally good and as duties. To be free in every 
respect, the wise man must be fettered and hampered 
b}^ no relations to others. He must satisfy his social 
wants by himself alone^ 1 or he will be dependent on 
others, and nothing which is out of his power ought 

( a ) Of to influence his happiness. Thus it is with family life. 

-f '7 7 '•/* 

Antisthenes would not do away with marriage, because 
he thought it useful to keep up the race of men, 2 but 
Diogenes already discovered that this object might be 
attained by a community of wives. 3 At the same time 
these philosophers were too deeply imbued with Gre- 
cian peculiarities to require the entire uprooting of all 
sexual desires in the spirit of a later asceticism. But 
they believed that natural impulses could be satisfied 
in a far more simple way than by marriage, and since 

to put an end to his life, but An- swers : rb dvpaaOai eavr$ 6/jll- 

tisthenes had not the courage to Xe?u. Out of this came the cari- 

make use of it. That Diogenes cature of later Cynicism, described 

made away with himself, is in- by Lucian, V. Auct. 10. A Dio- 

deed asserted in several of the genes and Crates were certainly 

accounts to which reference has haters of their fellow men. 
been made, but it is not esta- 2 Diog. 11: yafx^aetv re [rbv 

blished. In iElian, V. H. x. 11, (To0oj/']r€KuoTrouasx^P L J / 'r a ^ev^)V€' 

he refuses the contemptuous ardrais avvLovra yvvai^i. 
challenge to put an end to his 3 Diog. 72 : e\eye 5e teal Kotvas 

sufferings by suicide ; for the wise slvai SeTi/ ras yvvoutcas, ydfiov firj- 

man ought to live. But Metro- deva vopl&v, aKXa tov Treiaavra 

cles put an end to himself (Diog. tt? ireKrdeiar) (Tvveivcu ■ kos.vovs 5e 

95), not to mention Menedemus Sia rovro /cal tovs vteas. The 

(ibid. 100). So also Crates in correctness of this is supported 

Diog. 86; Clement. Strom, ii. 412, by the fact that Zeno and Chry- 

D. sippus, according to Diog. vii. 33, 

1 In Diog. 6, Antisthenes in 131, wished for the same state of 

reply to" the question, What good things in their ideal state, 
he had got by philosophy, an- 4 Something of the same kind 



CYNIC RENUNCIATION OF FAMILY. 



273 



moreover their mendicant life did not afford them an 
opportunity 1 for home pleasures, it is perfectly cre- 
dible that they were in general averse to women and 
to marriage, 2 or at least treated family life as in- 
different. Diogenes is said to have seen nothing 



Chap. 
XIII. 



has been already observed in 
Socrates. But this treatment of 
the relation between the sexes, 
becomes an extravagance and a 
deformity with the Cynics. In 
Xen. Symp. 4, 38, Antisthenes 
boasts of his comforts, since he 
only associates with those to 
whom others would have nothing 
to say. The same is attributed 
to him on principle, Diog. 3, and 
he is said to have satisfied his 
lusts in a coarser way, complain- 
ing that hunger could not be 
treated in the same way. Brucker 
i. 880, Steinhart, p. 305, and 
Gottling, p. 275, doubt the truth 
of these and similar stories. 
Without vouching for their ac- 
curacy, it may be enough to say 
that they are quoted by Diog. 46, 
49 ; Dio Chrys. Or. vi. 16 ; Lucian, 
V. Auct. 10 ; Galen. Loc. Affect, 
vi. 5; Athen. iv. 158; S. Chrys. 
34 Horn, in Math. ; S. Aug. Civ. 
Dei, xiv. 20. According to Plut. 
Sto. Eep. 21, it would appear 
that Chrysippus had on this ac- 
count vindicated the Cynic, and 
from Sext. Pyrrh. iii. 206, Zeno ap- 
pears to have done the same. The 
stories told however are not so out 
of keeping with the ways of Anti- 
sthenes, that we could call them 
impossible; and the very thing 
which to us appears so unintelli- 
gible, this public want of mo- 
desty, makes them very likely to 
be true of Diogenes. If true, they 
were an attempt on his part 



to expose the folly of man- 
kind. It is from this point of 
view rather than on any moral 
grounds that the Cynics conduct 
their attacks on adulterers and 
careless spendthrifts. To them 
it seemed foolish in the extreme 
to incur much toil, danger, and 
expense for an enjoyment, which 
might be had much more easily. 
See Diog. 4 ; 51 ; 60 ; 66; 89 ; 
Plut. Ed. Pu. 7 ;Stob. Floril. 6. 
39 ; 52. Diogenes is also accused of 
having publicly practised unchas- 
tity, Diog. 69 ; Theod. Cur. Gr. 
Aff. xii. 48. In Corinth the 
younger Lais, according to Athen. 
xiii. 588, or Phryne, according to 
Tertull. Apol. 46, is said to have 
offered to bestow on him her 
favours gratuitously, and the phi- 
losopher to have accepted them. 
On the other hand his morality is 
commended, Demet. de Eloc. 26] . 

1 The case of Crates is an ex- 
ception, and even Crates had not 
wooed Hipparchia. He only mar- 
ried her, when she would not 
renounce her affection for him, 
but was prepared to share his 
mode of life. He certainly mar- 
ried his children in a peculiar 
way, according to Diog. 88 ; 93. 

2 See the apophthegms in Diog. 
3, and Lucian, V. Auct. 9 : yd/nov 
<5e ajU€\^(T6iS Kal iraidcap ical ira- 
rpidos. Far less objectionable is 
the maxim of Antisthenes in 
Diog. 12 ; rbu dlKcuov irepl irKeipvos 
TToieiffdai rod cvyyevovs. 



r>74 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. revolting 1 in marriage between the nearest rela- 
XIIL tions. 



(j8) Ofci- Another point which they considered to be equally 
vil life. indifferent with family life for the wise man, was civil 
life. Indeed the sharp contrast between slavery and 
freedom does not affect the wise man. The man 
who is really free can never be a slave — for a slave is 
one who is afraid — and for the same reason a slave 
can never be free. The wise man is the natural 
ruler of others, although he may be called a slave, 
in the same way that the physician is the ruler of the 
sick. It was on this account that when Diogenes 
had to be sold, he had the question asked : Who is 
in want of a master ? and declined the offer of his 
friends to buy him back. 2 The wise man of the 
Cynics feels himself also above the restraints which 
civil life imposes : for where is the constitution 
which comes up to his requirements ? A popular 
government is severely censured by Antisthenes. 3 
An absolute monarch only appeared to these freedom- 

1 Dio Chrys. Or. x. 2£, whose from the bad (Diog. 5 ; 6) must 
statement is confirmed by its be intended for a hit at demo- 
agreeing with the universal doc- cracy. The words in Diog. 8, 
trine of the Stoics. that should the Athenians nomi- 

2 Diog. 29 ; 74. According to nate their asses horses, it would 
Diog. 16, Antisthenes wrote irepl be quite as good as choosing 
i\€vdepias kcu SovXcias, and per- incompetent generals — must also 
haps this is the origin of the ac- be directed against a popular 
count in Stob. Flor. 8, 14. form of government. According 

3 Arist. Pol. iii. 13, tells the to Athen. v. 220, Antisthenes 
fable — the application of which had made a sharp attack on all 
to a democracy is obvious — of the popular leaders at Athens, 
the hares suggesting universal Thus in Diog. 24; 41, Diogenes 
equality to the lions. The blame calls them 6%^ov Siclkovovs, and 
which he attaches to those states, he amuses himself at the expense 
which do not distinguish the good of Demosthenes. Ibid. 34. 



CYXIC REXUXCIATIOX OF CIVIL LIFE. 



275 



loving philosophers in the light of a bad and miserable 
man. 1 Existing aristocratical institutions fell far 
below their ideal, none of them being calculated for 
the rule of wise men: for what law or custom can 
fetter him, whose life is regulated by the laws of 
virtue ? 2 and what state can be extensive enough 
for those who regard themselves as citizens of the 
world ? 3 Whilst allowing the conditional necessity 
for a state and laws, 4 the Cynics 5 refused to have 
anything to do with them themselves, and wanted no 
homes. They only wished to be citizens of the 
world ; and in as far as they endeavoured to realise 
their ideal state, they really destroyed all political 
life. 6 All mankind were to live together like a flock. 



Chap. 
XIII. 



1 Compare Xen. Syrup. 4, 36 ; 
Dio Chrys. Or. vi."47; Stob. 
Floril. 49, 47; 97, 26; Diog. 50. 

2 Antisthenes, in Diog. 11, says : 
rov o~6<pov ov Kara robs Ktifxtvovs 
vofxovs Tro\iT€V(T€(Tdai aWa Kara 
rbv rr/s ap€Tr\s. Diogenes, ibid. 
38 : e&curKG 5' avrinQevai rvxV 
fj.€P 6dpo~os, vofxca 5e <pvo~iv, irddei 
5e Xoyov. Tbis antithesis of vojxos 
and <pv<ris seems to be what Plato 
has in view, Phil. 44, C. 

3 Diog. 63 says of Diogenes : 

ipOOTTldels 7TO06J/ 6i7?, KOO~fXOTTO\iTT]S, 

$<pr\. Ibid. 72 : \k6\n\v re bpOriv 

7TOAlT€iaV eiVCU T7]J> eV KOGfACp. 

Antisthenes, ibid. 12 : rep crexpep 
|eVoj/ ovBkv ouS' &Tropov. Crates, 
ibid. 98: 

ovx & Trdrpas (xol irvpyos, ov fxia 
(Trey 7), 

^6/j.os 
ctoi/xos 7ifJ.iv iu^iaiTaadat irdpa. 
The same individual in Pint, de 
Adul. 28, shows that banish- 



ment is no evil, and according to 
Diog. 93, he is said to have 
given a negative answer to Alex- 
ander's question, whether he did 
not wish to see Thebes rebuilt : 
%X eLV ^ 7raTpi5a aoo^iav kcu ireyiau 
dvaXoira rfj rvx'p kcl\ Aioyevovs 
ehcu TToAirrjs dveKifiovKsvTov <pdo- 
vcp. See also Epict. Diss. iii. 24, 
66. Lucian, V. Auct. 8. 

4 The confused remarks of 
Diogenes in Diog. 72 support 
this. 

5 Antisthenes was not without 
a citizen's rights, although a pro- 
letarius by birth and circum- 
stances. Diogenes was banished 
from Sinope, and lived at Athens 
as a foreigner. Crates had cho- 
sen this life, but his native town 
had been afterwards destroyed. 
Monimus was a slave, whom his 
master had driven away. 

6 Stob. Floril. 45, 28: 'Aw 
cr9tvr]s epcortjOels ircos &v ris irpoa- 
4\6oi 7ro\tT€ta, ciire Kaddirep irvpi, 

2 



276 



THE SO C RAT I C SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XIII. 



No nation was to have its own special laws and boun- 
daries. Confining themselves to the barest necessaries 
of life, needing no gold, that source of so much mis- 
chief, abstaining from marriage and social life, they 
wished to return to the simplicity of a state of nature, 1 
the leading thought of their extensive political sym- 
pathies being far less the oneness and the union of 
mankind than the freedom of the individual from 
the bojids of social life and the limits of nationality. 
Here again may be seen the negative spirit of their 
morality, which is devoid of all creative power. 
The same character may be recognised in a feature 

their inten- 



(7) Sup- 
modesty f° r us ^ e mas t revolting in Cynicism 



jutJt€ \iav iyyvs Xva ^ Kafjs, fi^re 
iroppa) %va ju$7 piyu)(Tr)s. 

1 The above description rests 
only in part on direct testimony, 
"but the combination which is the 
basis of it does not lack great 
probability. We know on au- 
thority that Diogenes in his iro~ 
Mreia (Diog. 80) demanded a 
community of wives and children, 
and that in the same treatise he 
proposed a coinage of bones or 
stones (affTpaya.XoL) instead of 
gold and silver, Athen. iv. 159. 
"VVe know further that Zeno's tto- 
Xircia ran to this effect: 'iva firj 
Kara ir6\€is /urjSe Kara. 5^/xous oi- 
K&fxcv, idiots €Kao~Toi dicapnT/jLei/oL 
dtKaioLS, aXXa irdvras audpcoirovs 
Tiy&fxsQa drj^oras /cal iroXiras eis 
Se jSios 77 KaH koct/jlos, &o"irep ayeATjs 

(TVUVOfMOV VOfJLCp KOIVy Tp€(f>0fJL€U7]S, 

Plut. Alex. Vit. i. 6 ; and since 
this treatise of Zeno was always 
considered to express the opi- 
nions of the Cynic School, we 
have every reason to look for 



those views in it. That these 
views were on the whole advocated 
by Antisthenes, is in itself pro- 
bable, and is confirmed by Plato's 
Politicus. Beginning as he does 
by rejecting the analogy between 
statesmanship and the superin- 
tendance of a flock, we might na- 
turally think that Plato was pro- 
voked to it by some such theory ; 
and since we know from Plu- 
tarch's account of Zeno, that the 
Cynics reduced the idea of the 
state to that of a herd of men, it 
is most natural to think of them. 
The description of the natural 
state, Rep. ii. 372, appears also 
to refer to Antisthenes. Plato 
at first describes it as though 
from himself, but he afterwards 
clearly intimates, that it belongs 
to another, when he calls it a 
state fit for pigs. And we know 
of no one else to whom it could 
be referred but the founder of 
the Stoic School. 



CYNIC SUPPRESSION OF MODESTY. 



277 



tional suppression of the natural feeling of shame. 
They did not consider this feeling altogether un- 
justifiable, 1 but they maintained that we need only 
be ashamed of what is bad, and that what is in itself 
good may be displayed before the eyes of all. They 
allowed themselves, therefore, to do what they con- 
sidered natural, no matter where, and even what other 
men prefer to do in secret they did not shrink from 
doing in the public streets. 2 For fear of in any way 
foregoing his independence, the Cynic puts out of 
sight all regard for others, and what he thinks he 
need not be ashamed of himself, he thinks he need 



Chap. 
XIII. 



1 It is expressly told of Dio- 
genes, Diog. 37 ; 54, that he ex- 
postulated with a woman who 
lay in an improper position in a 
temple, and that he called blushes 
the colour of virtue. 

2 This is especially said of 
Diogenes, Diog. 22 : iravrl Tp6irci} 
ixQr\To els irdvra, apicrcav ti kcl\ 
Kadevdcov kcu SiaXeyofievos, and ac- 
cording to Diog. 69, he supported 
this by the argument, If it is at all 
allowable to breakfast, it must 
be allowable to breakfast in 
public. Following out this prin- 
ciple he not only took his meals 
in public in the streets (Diog. 
48 ; 58), but he also did many 
other eccentric and startling 
things, in the sight of all passers 
by (Diog. 35 ; 36). It is even 
asserted of him, Diog. 69 : e*«0ei 
de rrdvra iroielv iv rep fJ-efftp, Kal ra 
Ar)fJL7}rpos Kal ra y A<ppo$iT7)<>. 
Theod. Cur. Gr. Aff. xii. 48, tells 
the same of him, mentioning an 
instance. We have already ob- 
served that these statements can 



hardly be altogether fictitious. 
But it is incredible that Crates 
and Hipparchia, as is said to 
have been the case, consummated 
their nuptials in the midst of 
numerous spectators. There are, 
however, not a few authorities for 
it : Diog. 97; Sext. Pyrrh. i. 153; 
iii. 200 ; Clement. Stromat. iv. 
523, A. ; Apul. Floril. 14 ; Lact. 
Inst. iii. lo, who mentions it as 
the common practice of the 
Cynics ; S. Aug. Civ. Dei, xiv. 20, 
who does not altogether credit it, 
but does not improve it by his 
interpretation of it. But all these 
are later authorities, and the 
whole story may be based upon 
some fact such as that this mar- 
ried couple once passed a night 
in the crroa ttoikiXt), or e]se upon 
the theoretical assertion of some 
Cynic philosophers, that a public 
consummation of nuptials was 
permissible. We have no reason, 
however, to doubt what Diog. 97 
says, that Hipparchia went about 
in public dressed as a man. 



278 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS, 

Chap, not be ashamed of before the world. The opinion of 
XIII 

* men is to him indifferent. He does not feel himself 



injured by their familiarity with his personal life, nor 
is he afraid of such an injury. 
0) Renun- To the same cause may be referred the Cynic atti- 

ciation of it- r» -i i a 

religion. tude towards religion. A course ot study under An- 
tisthenes was certainly not needed to make men en- 
tertain doubts about the truth of the popular faith. 
Since the appearance of the Sophists, doubts were 
being raised in the most opposite quarters, and had 
penetrated to all classes. Even the Socratic circle 
had not passed unscathed. 1 Antisthenes in particular 
must have been familiar with freer views about the 
Grods and their worship, derived from his intercourse 
with Grorgias, and the other Sophists, and particularly 
from the principles of the Eleatics, who had also in 
other respects influenced him. But for him these 
views had a peculiar meaning; which may serve to 
explain the sharp and hostile attitude of the Cynics 
to the popular faith, in which they so distinctly 
deviated from the example of Socrates. The wise 
man who is independent of everything external, 
cannot possibly be dependent on a traditional faith. 
He cannot feel himself obliged to follow popular 
opinions, or to connect his well being with customs 
and devotional practices, which have nothing to do 
with his moral state. 2 Thus in religious matters the 

1 As we gather from the dia- the free thought of Aristodemus, 
logues of Aristodemus and Euthy- Mem. i. 4,2,9-11; 14; who is 
demus, Xen. Mem. i. 4 ; iv. 3 ; also described by Plato, Symp. 
not to mention Critias. 173, B., as a kindred spirit to 

2 In this way we must explain Antisthenes. 



CYNIC EEXVXCIATION OF RELIGION. 279 

Cynics are decidedly on the side of free thought. Chap. 

The existence of a God they do not deny, and their " 

wise man cannot do without one; but they object to 
a number of Gods resembling men — popular Gods, 
who, they say, 1 owe their existence to tradition : in 
reality there is but one God, who resembles nothing 
visible, and cannot be represented by any symbol. 2 
And in their opinion the same holds good of the 
worship of the Gods. There is but one way of pleasing 
God — by virtue. Every other form is based on super- 
stition. Wisdom and integrity make us resemble the 
Gods, and make us their friends, But what is 
generally done to secure their favour is worthless 
and perverse. The wise man honours God by virtue, 
and not by sacrifice, 3 which is not required of him. 
He knows that a temple is not more holy than any 
other place. 4 He does not pray for things which are 
considered goods by those wanting in intelligence; 
not for riches, but for righteousness. 5 

1 Cic. X. D. i. 13, 32 : ' Anti- the term, i.e. they denied the 

sthenes in eo libro, qui physicus G-ods of the state, although from 

inscribitur, populares Deos mul- their point of view they were 

tos, naturalem unum esse dicens,' certainly right in rejecting the 

which is repeated by Minn. Fel. charge of atheism. Nothing 

Oct. 19. 8, and Lact. Inst. i. o, follows from the anecdotes in 

epit. 4 : Clement, Protrept. 46, C.', Diog. 37 ; 42. 
and also Stromat. v. 601, A., says: 3 Julian, Or. vi. 199, B. says 

'AvTiG-Oevris . . . 0€bv ovSevl dot- of Diogenes in excusing him be- 

k&cu <p7](xiu ' 5i07rep avrbv ovSels cause of his poverty, that he never 

iKfiaB67v e£ eUovos tvuarai. Theod. entered a temple or offered sacri- 

Cur. Gr. Affect, i. 7o, p. 14 : fice. Crates, ibid. 200, A. pro- 

'Avtlj64v7]s . . . irepl tov deov mises to honour Hermes and the 

tqjv e 6\cov j8o<£ • dirb cIkovos ou Muses ov fiairavais rpvcpepais, dAA' 

yi/upt&Tai, 6(p6a\/j.o'is oi»x oparai, apercus bffiais. 

ovdevl eoiKe 5to7rep avrbv ovdeis 4 See Diog. 73 : in\§ev ti&tottov 

eK/iadelv e£ eltcovos Svvarai. elvai e| Upov ri \afieiv. 

- The Cynics are therefore 5 See the prayer of Crates in 

Atheists in the ancient sense of Julian and Diog. 42. 



30 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. But with this is involved the renunciation of the. 

XIII 

' ordinary notion of prayer, for every one owes virtue 

to his own exertions. It may therefore be under- 
stood how Diogenes ridiculed prayers and vows. 1 Of 
oracles, prognostications, and prophecies, 2 he takes 
the same sweeping view. The mysteries also were 
assailed with biting scorn, 3 both by Diogenes and 
Antisthenes who, as far as religious views were con- 
cerned, held a perfectly independent attitude towards 
the popular faith. At the same time, when they were 
able by them to support their own arguments, they 
endeavoured to make use of those points which 
mythology supplied, and felt it all the more neces- 
sary to do so, in proportion to the earnestness with 
which they endeavoured to influence the masses ; 
Antisthenes no doubt being aided in so doing by the 
sophistical training which he had previously enjoyed. 4 
The traditions everywhere current must then be 
explained in harmony with this, and in particular 
those which say that Antisthenes interpreted the 
myths and the poets in an allegorical manner, and 
that he wrote a work in explanation of Homer, which 

1 Compare the anecdotes in Antisthenes appears also in Xen. 
Diog. 37 ; 59. Sym. 8, 5, to have doubts about 

2 In Diog. 24 he says that the §aifx6viov of Socrates, but 
when he beholds pilots, physi- little can be decided from a 
cians, and philosophers, he thinks passage so jocular. 

man the most intelligent being, 3 Diog. 4 ; 39 ; 42 ; Plut. Aud. 

but when he looks at interpreters Poet. 5 ; Clement, Protrept. 49, C. 

of dreams, or prophets, or ere- 4 For the allegorical inter- 

dulous believers in them, he con- pretations of that period consult 

siders him the most foolish Krische, Forsch. 234 ; Xen. Sym. 

creature. Similar things in Diog. 3, 6; Plato, Theaetet. 153, C. ; 

43 ; 48 ; Theod. Cur. Gr. Aff. vi. Bep. ii. 378, D ; Io, 530 C. ; Phse- 

20, and Dio. Or. x. 2 ; 17. drus, 229, C. 



CYNIC INFLUENCE ON SOCIETY. 281 

he completed in numerous volumes. l By following the Chap. 
ordinary practice, and looking for a hidden meaning 2 * 

in mythical stories, Antisthenes was enabled to dis- 
cover moral teaching everywhere, and to draw moral 
considerations from every story. 3 And by laying it 
down as a further axiom, that the poet was not always 
expressing his own opinion, 4 he had no difficulty in 
finding anything anywhere. Traces of this allegorical 
interpretation may also be noticed in Diogenes. 5 But 
the Cynics appear on this point to have been far 
behind the Stoics; 6 w r hich may be easily understood, 
since the Cynic doctrine was imperfectly expanded, 7 
and their love for learned activity was very small. 

It will be seen from the above, in what sense the e. Their 
Cynics spoke of the independence of virtue. The wise t J^^ ce 
man must be absolutely and in every respect inde- world. 
pendent; independent of wants, of desires, of pre- 
judices and of after-thoughts. The devotion and 

1 Diog. 17, mentions twelve or \6yos ovros 'AvricrOevovs cctt! 
thirteen volumes of his on Homer irporepov, € 6ri rh fj.hu 861*7) to. 5e 
and various portions of theHomeric aA.7?0eicc efyriTai rep 7roi7jT?r aAA' 
poems, and one on Amphiaraus. 6 fxkv ovk 4£<-ipyd<raTo avrhv, 6 5e 
Here too belong the volumes on /ca0 s eKacrou toov M pipovs eb*r)- 
Hercules. Julian, Or. vii. 209, A. ; Xcacreu. 

215, C; 217, A., frequently at- 3 According to Stob. Floril. 

tests the fact of his using myths. 29, 92, he explained the story of 

2 The vir6uoia or didvoia. Medea to mean, that by bodily 

3 Thus on Od. i. 1 , he enquired exercise she made effeminate men 
in what sense iroXvrpoiria was young again. 

praise. On Od. v. 211 ; vii. 257, 6 fiio says this expressly, and 

he remarked, that no reliance little is known of Cynic interpre- 

could be placed upon lovers' pro- tations. 

mises. In II. xv. 123, he found T Even their Ethics are scanty 

his doctrine of the oneness of enough, and their system gave 

virtue. no opportunity for those lengthy 

4 Dio Chrys. Or. liii. 5, says physical discussions, on which 
that whereas the same had been the Stoics were so great, 
previously said of Zeno, & 5e 



282 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. strength of will with which they compassed this end, 
'__ has certainly something great about it ; but by disre- 
garding the limits of individual existence, and by 
losing sight of the conditions of a natural life and 
conduct, the Cynic morality borders on pride, and 
their strength of principle on self-will. A value out 
of all proportion was attached to outward conduct by 
the Cynics, to such an extent that they again made 
themselves dependent on external circumstances. 
The sublime became ridiculous, and every freak of 
fancy was put forward and made to assert a claim to 
honour on the score of being higher wisdom. Plato, 
or whoever it was by whom the saying was uttered, 
was not altogether wrong, when he called Diogenes a 
mad Socrates. 1 

But with all these pretensions, the independence of 
these philosophers was not so great, that they could 
dispense with all consideration for their fellow-men. 
They found it very natural that all virtuous persons 
should be united with one another as friends, 2 and 
they considered it the wise man's business to raise 
the rest of mankind to his own level, and to be 
anxious not to keep the blessings of virtue to him- 
self, but to share them with others. They wished to 
appear as the educators of their people, and if pos- 
sible to bring back a luxurious and effeminate nation 
to the days of simplicity and moral strictness. The 
mass of men are fools, slaves of pleasure, suffering 

1 iElian, V. H. xiv. 33 ; Diog. ol (rirovdcuoi (pi\oi. Antisthenes 
vi. 54. wrote both an 'EpotTucbs and an 

2 Diog. ii : teal epacOrjcreG-OaL de 'Epcfytej/os (Diog. 14 ; 18), and he 
(i.6vov yap eloevcu rbv aocpbv, tlvqov had mentioned love in his Her- 
Xp^ *p§v • • • d^Lepaaros 6 dya06s' cules (Procl. in Ale. 98, 6). 



CYNIC INFLUENCE ON SOCIETY. 



283 



from self-conceit and pride. The Cynic is a physician 
who heals their disease. 1 He is a guide who leads 
them to what is good, ? and on this account he con- 
siders himself bound in duty to care for the outcast 
and despised. The physician exists for the sick, 3 and 
does not fear contamination from intercourse with 
them, any more than the sun does from shining in the 
most impure haunts. 4 

But the improvement of mankind is no easy task. 5 
He who is to be saved must hear the truth ; for if 
any one thing is more destructive than another it 
is flattery. 6 But truth is always unpleasant ; 7 it can 
only be told either by an incensed enemy or by a 
real friend. The Cynics propose to render to man- 
kind this friendly service, 8 and they are not distressed 



Chap. 
XIII. 



1 Diog. 4 : 'AvTurdevris ipcorTi- 
6e\s 5ia ti TriKp&s tols fxa6r]Ta7s 
iiriw\r}TT€i, teal ol larpoi, (prjcri, 
roh Ka^ivovdiv • Ibid. 6 : kcu ol 
larpoi <pr]cri, fxera rcov voffovvroov 
elcriu, aAA' ov irvperrovo'ip. In 
Stob. Eloril. 13, 25, Diogenes, 
when asked why he remained 
in Athens, whilst he was al- 
ways ' praising the Spartans, 
replied : ou5e yap larpbs vyieias 
&v TToi-qriKhs iv rots vyiaivovo~i 
tV hiaTpi$7)v iroietrai. Therefore 
Diogenes calls himself in Lncian, 
V. Auct. 8, iAevOtpooTTis rccv av- 
Qpdnroov Kai larpbs rcov itaQ&v, and 
he expresses astonishment in Dio, 
Or. viii. 7, that men less fre- 
quently apply to him, the healer 
of souls, than they do to an 
oculist or dentist. 

2 When Diogenes was pur- 
chased by Xeniades, he is said to 
have told Xeniades that he would 
have to obey his slave, just as 
in another case he would have to 



obey a pilot or physician. Diog, 
30; 36; Plut. An. Vitios. c. 3; 
Stob. Flor. 3, 63 ; Philo, Qu. Omn. 
Pr. Lib. 833, E. 

3 According to Epict. iii. 24, 
66, Diogenes read a lesson to 
the pirates who captured him. 
It cannot however have done 
much good, for they sold him 
notwithstanding ; and the story 
is altogether very uncertain. 

4 Diog. 63. 

5 Diog. 4. 

6 Diog. 4; 51; 92; Stob.Eloril. 
14, 16; Antisthenes in Plut. Vit. 
Pud. c, 18. 

7 Diogenes in Stob. Eel. eel, 
Graisford. App. ii. 31, 22 : rb 
aA7]d€S TTLKpov icrri Ka\ arises rots 
avor]Toh. It is like light to those 
who have weak eyes. 

8 Diogenes in Stob. Flor. 13, 
26 : ol fxzv aWoL Kvves robs £x~ 
Spovs haKvovcrw, iyeb 5e rovs (piXouS) 
%va ctio-w t 



284 TUB SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap, if they frequently cause offence in the discharge of 
L_ this duty; for a really good man always makes ene- 
mies ; l he who does no one any harm has nothing great 
about him. 2 It was also one of their principles, to 
pitch their demands and example above what was 
really wanted, because men only follow an example at 
a distance. Thus they forced their exhortations on 
friends and strangers alike, 3 Diogenes, in particular, in- 
Stilling his views in their most revolting form, 4 though 
even in these, more gentle traits are not altogether 
wanting. 5 At the same time the coarseness of their 
appearance was somewhat relieved by the wit which 
Diogenes and Crates displayed. They loved to clothe 
the serious element they were teaching in the form 
of a joke, 6 or to fire off a volley of short cutting say- 
ings 7 against the folly of mankind. 8 Diogenes, like 

1 Svfffi&ffTaKTov ehai rhv da"- friendly words of warm comfort 
retoz/. — Antisth. in Philo Qu. instead of the violent language he 
Omn. Pr. Lib. 869, C. expected. The attractiveness of 

2 In Plut. Virt. Mort. c. 12. the conversation of Antisthenes 
Diogenes says of Plato : ri 5' and Diogenes is also commended 
eKcwos exet (TcjJLvbv, %s roffovrov Diog. 14. 

Xp6vov (piXoo-ocpeov ovdeva \e\v- 6 See Diog. 27 j 83 ; 85 ; De- 
iniKev; met. de Elocut. 170; 259; Plut 

3 Compare what Diog. vi. 10 Tranqu. An. 4* 

says of Antisthenes, and vi. 26 ; 7 Hermog. Progym. c. 3 ; Theo. 

46 ; 65 of Diogenes ; also Lucian Progym. c. 5 ; Nicol. Progym. c. 3. 
V. Auct. 10. Because of his im- 8 Abundant examples of these 

portunity, Crates received the ways of the Cynics are to be 

name of dvpeiravolKTrjs. — Diog. found in the diro<pQ4y^aTa of Dio- 

86 ; Plut. Qu. Conv. ii. 1, 7, 4 ; genes, in his sixth book, and in 

Apul. Floril. iv. 22. Stobseus' Floril. See also Winckel- 

4 Diog. 24 ; 32 ; 46 ; Stob. Ekl. mann, Antisth. Prag. ; Plut. Prof, 
ed. G-aisf. App. L 7, 43. in Virt, c. 11 ; Virt, Doc. c. 2 ; 

5 Plut. De Adul. 28, relates Coh. Ira, c. 12; Curios, c. 12 ; 
that when Demetrius Phalerius, Cup. Div. c. 7 ; Exil. c. 7 ; De 
after his banishment, fell in with Alex. Virt. c. 3 ; Epict, Diss. iii. 
Crates, he was not a little sur- 2, 11 ; G-ell. xviii. 13, 7, not to 
prised at being received with mention others. 



CYNIC INFLUENCE ON SOCIETY. 285 

the oriental prophets, attempted to give greater force Chap. 

to his words by symbolical actions, and thus to attract * 

attention. 1 

The position occupied by the Cynics in the Greek 
world is no doubt a peculiar one. Ridiculed because 
of their eccentricities, 2 and admired for their self- 
denial, despised as beggars, and feared as moralists, 
full of pride in the face of folly, of pity at the moral 
misery of their fellow men, they opposed both the 
wisdom and the effeminacy of their time with the 
rough strength of a sturdy will. Hardened even to 
insensibility, with the cutting, ever ready native 
wit of the plebeian, benevolent, with few wants, full 
of whims and jokes, and national even to their very 
dirtiness, they resemble in many points the friars of 
the Middle Ages ; 3 and it cannot be doubted that not- 
withstanding all their extravagances, they in many 
ways did much good. Science, however, could expect 
but little from this mendicant philosophy, which did 
not indeed bring forth much fruit until it had been 
supplemented by other elements, and had been regu- 
lated and brought into connection with a wider view 
of the world by the Stoics, The Cynic School, as such, 
appears to have had only a very narrow sphere, nor 
will this appear strange, when the unbending severity 
of its demands is considered. In other respects it 

1 See Diog. 26 ; 31 ; 39 ; 64 ; 41 ; monks of Christendom. The con- 
Stob. Flor. 4, 84. This eccen- necting link is the Cynicism 
tricity becomes a caricature in of the time of the Caesars, and 
Menedemus, Diog. 102. the late Pythagorean asceticism, 

2 Diog. 83, 87, 93. which exercised so important an 

3 The Cynics really have a influence on eastern monasti- 
historical connection with the cism. 



286 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. was incapable of scientific developement, and the 

XIII 
'___ practical good it did was chiefty of a negative cha- 
racter. It attacked the vices and the follies of men. 
It required independence and self-denial, but it 
separated man from man. It placed the individual 
entirely by himself, thus affording play to moral pride, 
vanity, and the most capricious whims, which were 
not without ill effects. The abstract sovereignty of 
the personal will resulted ultimately in individual 
caprice, and Cynicism trenched on the ground of the 
philosophy of pleasure, to which as a system it was 
diametrically opposed. 



HISTORY OF THE CYRtiNAICS. 



287 



CHAPTER XIV. 



THE CYRENAICS. 



The information we possess respecting the Cyrenaie 
branch of the Socratic school is quite as imperfect, 
or perhaps even more so, than that which we are 
able to obtain about the Cynics. Aristippus 2 of 
Cyrene/ its founder, had been led to Athens 4 by 
a call from Socrates, whose wonderful personal influ- 
ence had unusual attractions for him, 5 although it was 



Chap. 
XIV. 

A. Out- 
ward 
history of 
the 



1 See Wendt, De Philosophia 
Cyrenaica, Gott. 1841. 

2 The accounts of the ancient 
and the views of modern writers 
on the life of Aristippus are 
found in detail in H. v. Stein's 
De Philosophia Cyrenaica. 

3 All authorities without ex- 
ception state this. His father is 
called Aritadas by Suid. *Ap[- 

(TTLTTirOS. 

4 iEschin. in Diog. ii. 65, says 
that he came to Athens Kara 
KXeos'SooKpaTovs, andPlut. Curios. 
2, gives full particulars how at 
the Olympic games he heard of 
Socrates and his teaching from 
Ischomachus, and was at once so 
taken by it that he did not rest 
till he had made his acquaintance. 
See Diog. ii. 78 ; 80. 

5 Aristippus is not only uni- 
versally described as a follower 
of Socrates (Diog. ii. 47 ; 74 ; 80 ; 



Strabo, xvii. 3, 22 ; Eus. Pr. Ev. 
xiv. 18, 31), but he also regarded 
himself as such, and paid a tri- 
bute of most genuine respect to 
his teacher. According to Diog. 
ii. 76, he prayed that he might 
die like Socrates. Ibid. 71, he 
says that if anything good can 
be truly repeated of himself, he 
owes it to Socrates, and Arist. 
Ehet. ii. 23, says ^Kpiornriros 
irpbs HAdrowa £irayy€XTiKu>Tep6v 
7i eiiroura, cos epcro' aWa (xt]v 6 
kroupos y rj/xcov, ec/>77, ovfev roiov- 
rov, X&yoov rbv ^ooKpdrriv. We 
also see from Xen. Mem. i. 2, 
iii. 8, that he was on an intimate 
footing with Socrates, and Plato 
in blaming him, Phsedo, 59, G, 
for being absent from the circle 
of friends, who met on the day of 
Socrates' death, evidently reckons 
him as belonging to this circle. 



288 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XIV. 



too weak to keep him by his master's side in the time 
of his last trial. 1 From Cyrene, his luxurious home, 
which at that time was at the height of its wealth 
and power, 2 Aristippus had brought habits far removed 
from the simplicity and self-denial of Socrates ; 3 
perhaps he had been already touched by those Sophis- 
tical influences which may be observed in his subse- 
quent career, 4 but at any rate we may assume that he 
had already attained to a certain maturity of thought 
when he first became acquainted with Socrates. 5 If 



1 Plato, who however only says 
that Aristippus and Cleombrotus 
had been in iEgina. That on 
this fertile island they caroused 
on the day of their masters 
death, as Demet. de Elocut. 288 
asserts, is barely possible. The 
accuracy of Plato's statement 
is indisputable, notwithstanding 
Diog. iii. 56 ; ii. 65, but whether 
Aristippus left Athens from ex- 
cessive regard for his own safety, 
or whether his weakness led him 
to wish to escape the painful in- 
terval pending the death of So- 
crates, cannot be ascertained. 

2 See Thrige, Kes Cyrenen- 
sium, 191. 

3 This may be gathered from 
Xen. Mem. ii. 1, 1, in addition 
to the proof afforded by his later 
conduct. That Aristippus be- 
longed to a wealthy family would 
seem to be established by his 
whole mode of living, and by the 
journey which he undertook to 
Athens. 

4 We might have imagined 
that a city so rich and cultivated 
as Cyrene, would not have been 
neglected by the Sophists, even 
if there were no express evidence 



to prove it. But it is known 
from Plato, Thesetet. 145, A.; 161, 
B. ; 162, A., that the celebrated 
mathematician, Theodore of Cy- 
rene, was a friend of Protagoras, 
and the principles of Protagoras 
are also afterwards met with in 
Aristippus. From the zeal with 
which Aristippus followed So- 
crates it may be further con- 
jectured that the study of phi- 
losophy was to him no new thing. 
5 The chronology of his life is 
very uncertain. Neither the time 
of his birth nor of his death is 
known to us. According to Dio- 
dore, xv. 76, he was alive in 366, 
b.c, and Plut. Dio. 19, tells us 
that he met Plato on his third 
visit to Sicily, which is placed 
in 361, b.c. But Diodore pro- 
bably derived from Dionysius his 
anecdote about the interview 
with Plato. Its accuracy cannot 
therefore be relied upon ; and 
as we are ignorant how old Ari- 
stippus was at the time, these 
accounts are anything but satis- 
factory. According to Diog. ii. 
83, however, it would appear, 
he was older by several years 
than iEschines ; and it would also 



HISTORY OF THE CYREXAICS. 



289 



this is borne in mind it will not seem strange that a 
young man 1 so full of promise as Aristippus should 
have met his teacher with a considerable amount 
of independence^ 2 and that on the whole he did not 
follow him so devotedly as to sacrifice his own pe- 
culiarities of character and thought. It is said that 
before the death of Socrates he appeared as a teacher. 3 
That he did so afterwards is a better established fact, 
no less than that he required payment for his in- 
struction, 4 thus following the practice usual among 
the Sophists, but in opposition to the principles of 
his greatest friend. He also followed the example of 
the Sophists by passing a great portion of his life in 
wandering from place to place without any settled 
home. 5 Subsequently he appears to have returned to 



Chap. 
XIV. 



appear that at the time he fol- 
lowed Socrates he was indepen- 
dent in his civil relations, and 
further that he was connected 
with him for several years. 

1 This is what he appears 
to have been from all that is 
known. 

2 See Xen. Mem. ii. 1 ; iii> 8. 

3 According to Diog. ii. 80, 
Socrates blamed him for taking 
pay for his instruction. How 
little dependence can be placed 
upon this will be seen from the 
fact that Aristippus says in his 
reply, that Socrates did the same, 
only taking less. Another pas- 
sage, Diog. ii. 65, seems to imply 
that Aristippus offered to give 
Socrates some of the money he 
had gained in this way. Perhaps, 
however, all that was said was, 
that Aristippus had taken pay, 
and offered it to his teacher, 



without however bringing the 
two facts into closer temporal 
connection. 

4 Phanias in Diog. ii. 65 ; 
Ibid. 72 ; 74 ; 80, where it is also 
stated in what way he defended 
this conduct. Alexis in Athen. 
xii 544 ; Plut. Edu. Pu. 7 ; Stob. 
Ekl. ed. G-ais. App. ii. 13, 145 
(that Aristippus is meant here 
appears from 146). Also Xen. 
ALem. i. 2, 60, appears to allude 
to him. The amount of these fees 
are estimated at 1000 drachmae 
by Plutarch, at 500 by Diog. 72. 

5 He says of himself in Xen. 
3Iem. ii. : ou5' els iroKireiav efxav- 
tov KdTaKXeici), dh\a £=Vos iravra- 
Xov tifil. In Plut. Yirt. Doc. p. 
2, some one asks him : -navraxov 
av apa el ; to which he replies 
with a bad joke. He is mentioned 
by later writers, often no doubt 
bad authorities, as having been in 



290 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XIV. 



his native city, and to have made it his permanent 
abode, 1 and here it is that we first hear of his family 



different places : in Megara, where 
he met with iEschines (Diog. ii. 
62) : in Asia Minor, where he 
was imprisoned by the Persians 
(Diog. ii. 79) : in Corinth, where 
he revelled with Lais (Ath. xiii. 
599; Diog. ii. 71): in JEgina, 
where he is said not only to have 
lived for a time after the death 
of Socrates, but where, according 
to Athen. xiii. 588, he every year 
took up his residence in company 
with Lais : and at Scilus, where 
Xenophon read to him his Me- 
morabilia. Much in particular 
is told of his stay at the court of 
Syracuse, of his hostile encounter 
with Plato, and of many other 
adventures, which he there ex- 
perienced. But in all these notices 
there is great confusion, since at 
one time the elder Dionysius, at 
another, theyounge.T Dionysius, at 
another, simply Dionysius is 
spoken of. It is asserted by 
the Scholiast on Lucian, Men. 
13, that Aristippus was at Syra- 
cuse under the elder Dionysius. 
This is borne out by Hegesander in 
Athen. xii. 544; for the Antiphon 
there mentioned was (according 
to Plut, De Adulat. 27) executed 
by command of the elder Diony- 
sius. The anecdote of his ship- 
wreck in Galen. Exhort, c. 5, 
must be referred to the same 
time. It can only belong to his 
first visit to Sicily, but by Vitruv. 
vi. Prsefat, was transferred to 
the island of Rhodes. On the 
other hand, Plut. Dio. 19, brings 
him into contact with Plato on 
Plato's third journey to Sicily, 
361, B.C., in the time of the 
younger Dionysius. The notices 



in Athen. xi. 507; Diog. ii. 
66-69, 73, 75, 77-82, are inde- 
finite, although the stories there 
told harmonise better with the 
court of the younger Dionysius 
than with that of his father. 
Nothing can however be esta- 
blished with certainty about the 
visits of Aristippus to Sicily. 
That he visited Sicily may be 
believed on tradition. That he 
there met Plato is not impossible, 
though it is also possible that 
the account of this meeting was 
invented in order to bring out 
the contrast between both philo- 
sophers. Plato's journeys to Sicily 
were a favourite topic for later 
anecdotes. But any one of the 
above stories, taken by itself alone, 
must be accepted with caution, 
and it is not even established 
that he visited both the Diony- 
siuses. The supposed meeting 
between Aristippus and Plato 
was probably spread as an anec- 
dote, without any attention having 
been paid to its historical con- 
nection, and when this was done 
by subsequent biographers, it be- 
came impossible to find out what 
was genuine. 

1 Whether this stay w T as short- 
ened by frequent travels, whether 
Aristippus died in Cyrene or 
elsewhere, and how long he lived, 
are points unknown. The journey 
to Sicily in 3 6 1 , b. c. is, as we have 
seen, uncertain. The twenty-ninth 
letter, which Socrates is supposed 
to have addressed to his daughter 
from Li para after his return, and 
in expectation of death, is value- 
less as a historical testimony, 
and does not even render the 



HISTORY OF THE CYEENAICS. 



291 



and his School. 1 The heiress to his principles was a 
daughter, Arete, a lady of sufficient education to 
bring up her son, 2 the younger Aristippus, 3 in his 
grandfather's principles. Besides his daughter, 
JEthiops and Antipater are also mentioned as pupils 
of the elder Aristippus. 4 His grandson, the younger 
Aristippus, is said to have instructed Theodore, 
called the Atheist f the fruits of Antipater's teach- 



Chap. 
XIV. 



existence of a corresponding 
tradition probable, and the as- 
sumption based on Diog. ii. 62, 
that Aristippus flourished at 
Athens in 356, has been with 
justice refuted by Stein. 

1 Generally called Cyrenaics, 
more rarely Hedonists, as in 
Athen. vii. 312: xiii. 588. 

2 AVho was thence called ^77- 

TpoSldaKTOS. 

3 Strabo xvii. 3, 22 ; Clement, 
Strom, iv. 523 ; Eus. Pr. Ev. xiv. 
18, 32 ; Theod. Cur. Gr. Aff. xi. 
1 : Diog. ii. 72, 84, 86 ; Suid. 
'Apio-TL-mros ; Themist. Or. xxi. 
244. If therefore ^lian, H. 
Anim. iii. 40, calls Arete the sister 
of Aristippus, it must be through 
an oversight. Besides this daugh- 
ter he is said to have had a son, 
whom he did not recognise, Diog. 
81 ; Stob. Eloril. 76, 14. Most 
likely this was only the child of 
an krcupa. although Stobseus calls 
his mother a wife. 

4 Diog. ii. 86. We know 
further from Cic. Tusc. v. 38, 
112. that Antipater bore the loss 
of sight with resignation. Cicero 
tells a somewhat doubtful joke 
about it. 

5 Diog. 86. This Theodore 
appears to have belonged to the 
Optimates, who were driven from 



Cyrene in the party quarrels im- 
mediately after the death of 
Alexander, and took refuge with 
the Egyptian sovereigns. Thrige, 
Pes Cyren. 206. AVe hear of 
him again as an exile in the last 
years of the fourth century (Plut. 
De Exil. 16; Diog. 103; Philo, 
Qu. Omn. pr. Lib. 884, C), in 
Greece and particularly at Athens 
(Diog. ii. 100, 116; iv. 52; vi. 
97), where a friend of Ptolemy's, 
Demetrius Phalereus, helped him, 
between 316 and 306, B.C., and sub- 
sequently at the court of Ptolemy, 
on whose behalf he undertook an 
embassy to Lysander (Diog. 102 ; 
Cic. Tusc. i. 43, 102; Yaler. vi. 
2, 3; Philo, Plut,, Stob. Elor. 2, 
33). At last he returned to his 
own country, and was there held 
in great honour by Magas, the 
Egyptian governor, Diog. 103. 
What made him particularly no- 
torious was his atheism. On this 
account he was indicted at Athens, 
but was rescued by Demetrius, 
and obliged to leave the city 
(Diog. 101 ; Philo). The asser- 
tion of Amphi crates (in Diog. and 
Athen. xiii. 611), that he was put 
to death by a hemlock-draught, 
is contradictory to all we know 
of him. According to Antisth. 
in Diog. 98, he was a pupil not 
2 



292 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XIV. 



ingr 1 were Heo-esias 2 and Anniceris. 3 All these men 
established separate branches of the Cyrenaic School, 
which bore their respective names. 4 Amongst the pu- 
pils of Theodore were Bio the Borysthenite, 5 and per- 
haps Euemerus, the well-known Greek rationalist/ 



only of Aristippus, his junior in 
years, but also of Anniceris and 
of the dialectician Dionysius. 
It is however difficult to see how 
he can have been younger than 
Anniceris. Suid. 0eo5. makes 
Zeno, Pyrrho, and Bryso his tea- 
chers, the first one probably with 
reason, the two others quite by 
mistake. Under ^J>Kpar. he makes 
him a pupil of Socrates, at the 
same time confounding him with 
a mathematician from Cyrene of 
the same name, who is known to 
us through Plato. In Diog. ii. 
102, iv. 52, he is called a Sophist, 
i.e. one who took pay for his 
instruction. 

1 According to Diog. 86, through 
E-pitimides of Cyrene and his 
pupil Parsebates, the latter of 
whom is said to have studied 
under Aristippus. 

2 A cotemporary of Ptolemy 
Lagi, who is said to have prohi- 
bited him from lecturing, because 
he described the ills of life so 
graphically that many were led 
to commit suicide. Cic. Tusc. i. 
34, 83 ; Valer. Max. viii. 9, 3 ; 
Plut. Am. Prol. 5. Suicide was 
also the subject of his book 'Kiro- 
KapT€pu>v, Cic. Hence his name 
TleicriOduaTos, Diog. 86. 

3 Probably also under Ptole- 
my I., although Suidas places 
him in the time of Alexander. 

4 For the (deodcapeioi and their 
teaching see Diog. 97 ; Calli- 
machus in Athen. vi. 252 : for 



the e Hy rjcri clko'i, Diog. 93 ; for the 
'Avviictpsioi, ibid. 96 ; Strabo, xvii. 
3. 22; Clement, Strom, ii. 417, 
B. ; Suid. 'Kwik. Strabo calls 
Anniceris 6 Sokwv iirapopOcixrai 
7-771/ Kvp7]j/a'LKr r )V dipzctiv nal irapa- 
yayelv avr avrris t))v 'Ayi/iKepeiai/. 
To the Annicereans belonged 
Posidonius the pupil, and pro- 
bably also Nicoteles, the brother 
of Anniceris. 

5 This individual, who lived 
at Athens and other places as a 
teacher of philosophy towards the 
end of the fourth, and in the 
beginning of the third century 
(Diog. iv. 46, 49, 53 ; ii. 135), had 
first attended the Academy, then 
the School of Crates, and then 
turned to Theodore, and at last 
to Theophrastus, Diog. iv. 151. 
His free thought and the instabil- 
ity of his moral principles recall 
the School of Theodore. See Diog. 
iv. 49, 53. In other respects he 
is rather a literary wit than a 
philosopher. See Diog. iv. 46-57. 

6 Euemerus, of Agrigentum, 
according to Clement ., Protr. 15, 
A; of Messene, according to Plut. 
Is. et Os. 23; Euseb. Pr. Ev. 
ii. 2, 52 ; Lactant. Inst. i. 11; of 
Cos according to Athen. xiv. 658 ; 
of Tegea, according to Pseudo- 
Plut. Plac. Phil. i. 7, 1, is often 
mentioned in connection with 
Theodore, Diagoras, and other 
Atheists. Tne notion that Theo- 
dore was his teacher, rests solely 
on hypothesis. A connection 



TEACHING OF THE CYRENAICS. 



293 



while amongst his contemporaries was Aristotle of Chap. 

rs i XIV. 
Cyrene. 1 

The Cyrenaic doctrine, which as to its leading b. The 

thoughts undoubtedly belongs to Aristippus, 2 follows ^^ ng 

Cyrenaics. 



with the Cyrenaic School is not 
in itself improbable, since this 
was the only School which at 
that time busied itself with com- 
bating the popular belief. The 
tame resolution of the myths into 
mere history, by which Euemerus 
became known, is also quite in 
their style, and the Cynics who, 
together with the Cyrenaics, were 
then the representatives of free 
thought, did not make use of 
natural explanations but of alle- 
gory. In point of time Euemerus 
may easily have been a pupil of 
Theodore. He lived under the 
Macedonian Cassander (311 to 
298 b. a), and the latter sent him 
on a journey on which he visited 
the fabulous island of Panchsea, 
and pretended to have discovered 
in a temple there the history of 
the Gods, the account of which is 
given in his Upa avaypa<p7]. Diodor. 
in Eus. Pr. Ev. ii. 2, 55 ; Plut, De 
Is. 23. Copious extracts from this 
work are found in Diodore, v. 
41-46, and fragments in the 
translation undertaken by En- 
nius, or in a revision of this trans- 
lation in Lactant. Inst. i. 11, 13 ; 
see Yahlen, Ennian. Poes. Keliq. 
p. xciii. 

1 According to Diog. ii. 113, 
president of a philosophical School 
in the time of Stilpo, to all ap- 
pearances at Athens. Diogenes 
there calls him Kvprjva'CKos, not 
with the view of describing his 
descent, but his philosophic creed. 
iElian however, V. H. x. 3, in re- 



cording a saying of his, calls him 
Kvp7]vcuos. A saying in Stob. 
Eloril, 63, 32, belongs to him 
according to some MSS., but to 
Aristippus according to Cod. B. 

2 This is not altogether undis- 
puted. Eus. Pr. Ev. xiv. 18, 31, 
says of the elder Aristippus with- 
out doubt on the authority of 
Aristocles : aAA' ovVev fiev ovtgos 
iv t<£ (pavepco irepl reXovs SxeAe- 
|aro, hvvdjjL^L 5e rrjs evdaLjuovias 
T7/y VTvocrracriv eXeyey iu rjdovcus 
Ke?cr6cu. aet yap Xoyovs irepl rjdo- 
vris iroiovjievovs els inro\piav i\y$ 
robs Trpoffiovras awry rod Xeyeiv 
reXos eivoLi rb 7]dea)s ^rjv : and of 
the younger one, os Kai cacpws 
wpicraro reXos tivcu rb rjdecas £f,v, 

7)d0V7]V eVTOLTTOOV TT]V Kara Kl- 

vT](nv. This testimony appears 
to be further corroborated by the 
fact that Aristotle, in refuting the 
doctrine of pleasure, Eth. x. 2, 
does not mention Aristippus, but 
Eudoxus, as its representative. 
To this must be added what Sosi- 
crates and others, according to 
Diog. 84, maintained, that Ari- 
stippus left no writings ; which 
would at least point to a lower 
development of his teaching. The 
assertion of Sosicrates however 
appears to be without foundation ; 
for Diogenes gives two lists of 
the works of Aristippus, which 
agree in the main, and one of 
which was acknowledged by So- 
tion and Pangetius. Theopompus 
knew of his writings, for accord- 
ing to Athen. xi. 508, he accused 



294 



THE SOCJRATIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XIV. 



(a) Their 

general 

position. 



the Cynic in dealing with the practical side of the 
teaching of Socrates. Of Aristippus and his pupils 
it was asserted, no less than it was of the Cynics, that 
they neglected questions relative to nature and logic 
and gave themselves wholly to the study of ethics. 1 
Nor is this assertion disproved by their inability to 



Plato of plagiarism from the 
diatribes of Aristippus. Allow- 
ing then that subsequent addi- 
tions were made to the writings 
of Aristippus, it cannot be sup- 
posed that the whole collection 
is fictitious. Perhaps in ancient 
times, and in Greece proper, 
these writings were less diffused 
than those of the other followers 
of Socrates. This fact may easily 
be explained, supposing the great- 
er part of them not to have been 
written till Aristippus had re- 
turned to his native country. It 
may also be the reason that 
Aristotle never mentions Aristip- 
pus, unless it were that he in- 
cluded him among the Sophists, 
Metaph. iii. 2. The remarks of 
Eusebius can only be true in 
one sense, viz. that the elder 
Aristippus does \ not make use 
of the expression TeXos, and 
does not put his sentences in the 
form which subsequently pre- 
vailed in the Schools. That he 
recommended pleasure, that he 
declared it to be a good in the 
most decided manner, that thus 
the leading features of the 
Cyrenaic teaching is due to him, 
cannot be doubted, taking into 
account the numerous witnesses 
which affirm it, nor would the 
unity of his School be otherwise 
comprehensible. 

1 Diog. ii. 92 : a<p'.o'TavTo Se 



Kal twv (pvaiKccv dia rrjv ificpaivo- 
fievrjv aKaraXTi'tyiav, rcov Be XoyiK&v 
Sia t))v evxpT)o~Tiav tjittovto. Me- 
Xeaypos 8e . . . Kal KXeiTOfiaxos 
. . . <pao~lv avrovs 6,xpV^" ra yyd- 
aQai to tl (pvariKov fiepos Kal to 
SiaXeKTiKou. bvvao~dai yap ev Xeyeiv 
Kai deiaiBai/mouia? eKrbs elvai Kal 
tov irepl Oavdrov (pofiov encpevyeiv 
tov rrepl ayad&v Kal KaKcoy Xoyov 
eKjX€jxadr\KOTa. Sext. Math. vii. 
11 : doKovai Be KaTa Tivas Kal oi 
airb tt)s Kvp7)pr)s (jlovov acrird^eaOat 
rb 7]Qlkov jxepos irapairefxirew Be to 
(pVO'LKOV Kal to XoyiKov QiS ^JLf\BeV 

Trpbs to €vdaifji6va>s $iovv crvvep- 
yovvra. Plut. in Eus. Pr. Ev. i. 
8, 9 : 'ApiffTnriros 6 Kvpr)va?os 
tcXos aya6a>v tt]v tjBovtjv, KaK&u 
Be t))v aXyy]Bova, tt)v Be &XXt)v 
(pvcioXoyiav irepiypdcpei, fx6i>ov 
axbiXijiov elvai Xeyoov to QqTelv 
"Ottl toi ev fxeydpoLO'L KaKov t* 
ayaOou re rirvKrai, which is also 
told of Socrates and Diogenes. 
Arist. Met. iii. 2 : o&epre Bia, TavTa 
toov o"0(piaTdop Tives oTov 'Apl- 
o-tittttos Trpoe7rr]XdKi£oi/ avTas [ras 
fiadrjixaTLKas imo'TiiiAas] ev ixev 
yap reus dXXais Texvais, Kal tols 
fiavavcrois, oTov t6Ktovikt} Kal gtkv- 
tlkt]. Bloti fieXTiovYjxeipovXeyeadai 
irdvTa, tcls Be fxaB^fxariKas ovdeva 
Troie?cr9ai Xoyov irepl ayadwv Kal 
Ka«wv. The same in Alex, on 
Met. xiii. 3. Compare the lan- 
guage of Aristippus in Diog. ii. 
71, 79. 



GENERAL POSITION OF THE CYRENAICS. 



295 



keep clear of theories, since the sole object of their 
theory was to establish ethics, and indeed their own 
exclusive view of ethics. 1 The end to be secured by 
philosophy is the happiness of mankind. On this 
point Aristippus and Antisthenes agreed. But An- 
tisthenes knew of no happiness which did not im- 
mediately coincide with virtue, and thus made virtue 
the only object in life. Aristippus, on the other hand, 
considered enjoyment the only end in itself, and 
happiness the only unconditional good. 2 Everything 
else appeared to him good and desirable only in as 
far as it was a means to enjoyment. 3 Both Schools 
therefore, diverge from a common principle in oppo- 



Chap. 
XIV. 



1 According to the sense in 
which it is understood, it is 
equally true to say that they set 
logic aside and that they made 
use of it. Of what was after- 
wards called logic, they ap- 
propriated just as much as was 
necessary for their theory of 
knowledge, but they assigned no 
independent value to it, nor did 
they study it beyond what was 
wanted for their purposes. 

2 Aristippus in Xen. Mem. ii. 

1, 9 : i/JLCLVTOV TOiVVV TCtTTO) €IS 

rovs fiov\ofj.ej/ovs f] petard T€ kcu 
Tj^icrra fiioreveiv. Cic. Acad. iv. 
42, 131 : alii voluptatem summum 
bonum esse voluerunt : quorum 
princeps Aristippus. Ibid. Fin. 
ii. 6, 18, 13, 39; Diog. 87: 
7)§ovriv . . . 7]V kcu reKos glvcu, 88 : 
7) rjhov^ Zi aurr)v alperri ko\ 
dyaBou. Athen. xii. 544 : ['Api- 
0"ri7r7ros] airoB€£d;j.ei/os rrju rjdvTrd- 
Beiav ravTT]v reAos elvcu ecpt] kcu 
iv avrfjrw evdaifxoviav fiefiKTJaOaL. 
Euseb. The same view is men- 
tioned and attacked by Plato, 



Gorg. 491, E. ; Eep. vi. 505, B., 
and Philebus, 11. B., where it is 
thus described : $>i\r}fios /J.hv ro'ivvv 
dyaObu eluai ^>tjctl rb x a ' L P eLV T^dai 
(cools teal ri)v t)5opt)v koX rip^iv KCU 
ova rod yevovs earl rovrov ctv/jl- 
(poova. Ibid. 66, D. : rayaObv eri- 
6ero 7)}mv 7}Zovr\v efocu iruaav kcu 
TravreXTj. That Plato had Ari- 
stippus in mind is clear, as will 
be shown in the sequel. 

3 Diog. 91 : rr]v (pp6pT](TLi/ dya- 
6bv fxev elvcu Xeyovaiv, ov Si' eavr^v 
de alperr\u, aXKa hid rb e| avrrjs 
Trepiyiv6/j.eva . . . kcu rbv irXovrov 
he iroi7]riKbu Tjhovrjs elvai, ov Bf 
avrbv alperbv ovra. Cic. Off. iii. 
33, 116: Cyrenaici atque Anni- 
cerei philosophi nominati omne 
bonum in voluptate posuerunt ; 
virtutemque censuerunt ob earn 
rem esse laudandam, quod effi- 
ciens esset voluptatis. Wendt, 
Phil. Cyr. 28, and Ast refer the 
passage of the Phsedo, 68, E., to 
this sentence of Aristippus, but 
without reason. It refers to 
common unphilosophical virtue. 



296 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. site directions, but not without subsequently ap- 
L_ proaching one another even more nearly than seemed 



at first sight to be possible. 
(b) Feel- This leading thought was then further developed 

T?ily object by Aristippus and his pupils as follows. 1 All our 
of 'know- perceptions, they maintain, are nothing but feelings 
of a change within ourselves, but they do not supply 
us with the least information about things in them- 
selves. We are indeed conscious of having a sensa- 
tion of sweetness, whiteness, and so forth, but whether 
the object which causes the sensation is sweet, or 
white, is unknown to us. One and the same thing 
often produces an entirely different effect upon 
different persons. How then can we be sure, that 
in any given case, our impressions of things are not 
entirely different to what things are in themselves, 
either owing to the nature of our organs, or to the 
circumstances under which we receive the impres- 
sions ? Our knowledge, therefore, can only refer to 
our own feelings, about which we are never deceived ; 
but of things in themselves we know absolutely 
nothing. 2 Just as little do we know about the feel- 

1 The Cyrenaics divided their ever, follow this strictly in our 

ethics into five parts. Sext. account, since we do not know how 

Math, vii- 11 : kcl'ltol irepirpe- the subject was divided among 

irecBai rodrovs evioi vevo/jLiKaaiv these several parts, nor how old 

e£ oov to t)6ik6v Siaipov&Li/ efc re and universal the division is. 

tqv irepl t&v atpercau Kal cpevKroov That it was unknown in the time of 

tottov kcl\ els tov irepl T<2v iraOwv Aristippus may be gathered from 

Ka\ en els rdu irepl toov irpd^ecou the statement made about his 

Kal tffir) rov irepl twv alricov, Kal writings. In the portion irepl 

Tn\evTOuovusThvir€p\T&viri<TTe(iov' iricrrecov probably the theory of 

ivrovroLS yap 6 irepl alri(oj/r6rros, knowledge was treated, and in 

qxxviv, e/c rod (pv&iKov fxepovs the preceding one the theory of 

eri>7X<w« / , o Se irepl iricrTeuy 4k motion. 

rod \ojikov. We cannot, how- 2 Cic. Acad. iv. 46, 143 : aliud 



FEEL IX GS THE SUBJECT OF KNOWLEDGE. 



297 



ings of other people. There may be common names, 
but there are no common feelings, and when two 



Chap. 
XIV. 



judicium Protagorse est, qui putet 
id cuique rerum esse, quod cuique 
videatur : aliud Cyrenaicorum, qui 
prseter permotiones intimas nihil 
putant esse judicii. Ibid. 7, 20 : 
de tactu, et eo quidem, queni 
philosophi interiorem vocant, 
aut doloris aut yoluptatis, in quo 
Cyrenaici solo putant veri esse 
judicium. Pint. adv. Col. 24, 2 : 
\oi KvpTjisainoX] rd irddr} Kai ras 
(pavraaias ev avrols ridevres ovk 
tjoovTo rr)v dirb tovtqjp iricTTLU elvai 
diapKT) irpos ids virep r&v irpay- 
fxoLToiv Karafiefiai&o-eis, aXX 3 oocirep 

4v TTOKLOpKia TOO}/ 6KT0S dirOCrdj/reS 

els rd irddr} KareKXeiaav avrobs. to 
(paiverai ridefxevoi, rb 5' eo~rl /nrj 
TrpoGairo<paLi/6[jL€VOL irepl ru>v euros 
. . . yXi KaivecrdoA yap Xeyovcri Kai 
iriKpalveo~dai Kai <po)Ti£eo~dai Kai 
GKorovcfdai r<hv iradcop rovrcau 
eKacrrov rr}v evepyeiav owe'iav ev 
ai/Tw Kai arr epiaiTacrrov exovros' 
el 5e yAvKv rb /jl4Xl Kai iriKpbs 6 
daXXbs . . . virb iroXXwv dvri- 
IxaprvpeiGdai Kai dripioov Kai irpa- 
yfxdroiV Kai dvdpdoirccv, ra>v \xev 
Bucrx^p^^opTcoj/, rcav 5e irpoo~ie- 
jj.€vcou rrjv daXXiav, Kai diroKao- 
fxevcav virb rr)s x^^Cv^, K-Oil 
Kara^vxof-ievwv virb citvov, Kai irpbs 
7}\iov d/mfiXvooTTOvrtoV Kai vvKroop 
fSAeirovroov. odev efx/nevovo'a rots 
irddeaiv r) do^a Starr/pe? rb dva- 
fxdprr]Tov' eKfialvovo~a 5e Kai 
iroXvrrpay/JLOVOvaa tgj Kpiveiv Kai 
dir6<palveo~Bai irepl roov eKrbs, 
avrr)v re iroXXaKis rapdo'o'ei Kai 
fidx^rai irpbs erepovs dirb roov 
avrcov ivavria irddr) Kai dtacpopovs 
(pavraaias Xafifidvovras. Sext. 
Math. vii. 191, which is the most 
accurate account, but probably to 
a great extent in his own termi- 



nology : <pao~lv ovv ol KvprjvaiKol 
Kpirripia elvai ra irddr} Kai piova 
KaraXafx^dveo'dai Kai d\pevcrra 
rvyxaveiv, rccv 5e ireiroLr} kotow to, 
irddr} fjLr,deu elvai KaraXrjirrbv jir)Ze 
abid^evcrrov otl /nev yap XevKai- 
v6/j.eda, <pao~i, Kai yXvKa^ofxeda, 
dvvarbv Xeyeiv ddia\pevo~ru;s . . . 
otl 5e Tb efjLiroi7)TiKbv rod irddovs 
XevKov eari r) yXvKV eo~riv, ovx 
oTov r dirocpalvecrdai. e'lKbs yap 
eari Kai virb /xr} XevKov riva Xev- 
KavriKcas Biaredrjvai Kai virb fjirj 
yXvKeos yXvKavdrjvai, just as a 
diseased eye or a mad brain 
always sees things different to 
what they are. ovtoj Kai rffids 
evXoycoTarou icri irXiov rcau 
oiKeioov iradcov /j.r}Zei/ Xa^$dveiv 
Ivvavdai. If therefore we under- 
stand by (paivS^eva individual 
impressions, irddr}, it must be said 
iravra ra (paivofxeva aXr)dr) Kai 
KaTaXr}irrd. If, on the contrary, 
every name means the thing by 
which the impression is produced, 
all (pawofjiGva are false and cannot 
be known. Strictly speaking, 
Ijlovov rb irddos r\\fiv io'Ti (patvo- 
fxevov Tb 8' ektos Kai rov irddovs 
iroir}TiKOj/ rdxa /u4p io~Tiv t>v ov 
(paivOfxevov 8e fi/uv. Kai ravTy 
irepl fj.hu rd irddr} rd ye oiKe7a 
irduTes io'/neu dirXavels, irepl Se rb 
eKTbs viroKei/uei/ov irdvres irXaudo- 
ueda d KaKelva /ul4v io'Ti KaraXrjirTa, 
tovto 5e aKardXrjirrou, rr)s tyvxys 
irduv acrdeuovs KadecrTci>o"r}s irpbs 
b^idyvojo'iv avTod irapd tovs toitovs, 
irapd rd SmcTT^^aTa, irapd rds 
KLj/r)or€LS, irapd ras /xeTajSoAas, 
irapd dXXas iramirXridels alrias. 
SeePyrrh. i. 215; Diog. ii. 92: 
rd re irddr} KaraXrjTrrd, eXeyov 
ovv avrd, ovk a<£ s wv yiverat. 



298 



THE SO CA A TIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XIV. 



people say that they have the same feelings, neither 
of them can be certain that he has really felt what 
the other has, since he can only apprehend his own 
and not another's feelings. 1 

Thus, like Protagoras, the Cyrenaics regard all our 
notions as relative and individual ; but they differ 
from Protagoras in referring thefh more directly to 
our own internal feelings, and in leaving out of sight 2 



Ibid. 93 : tcls al(r87io*€is [A^irdvTOTe 
a\7)6ev€Li'. Ibid. 95 of the School 
of Hegesias, which does not in 
this respect differ from others: 
avypovv 8e teal tcls ala6r)o*€is ovk 
aKpifiovcras t)]v iiriyvooo'iu. Arist. 
in Eus. Prsep. Ev. xiv. 19, 1 : 
e£r}s 5' av elev oi XiyovTes fxdva ret, 
irddri KaraXTjirrd. tovto S' elizov 
%vioi twv in ttjs Kvp^urjs (which 
in the face of the definite state- 
ments of Cicero, Plutarch and 
Sextus, does not prove that this 
doctrine did not belong to the 
whole School, nor can this be 
intended) . . Kaiofxevoi yap eXeyov 
Ka\ T€fj.v6fievoL yi/wplfeiv, otl ira- 
o~xoi€v tl ' irorepou 8e ib Kalov efy 
irvp 77 rb re/uLvov aidr)pos ovk ex eiv 
€*7re2V. Sextus Math. vi. 53, 
says : fxoi/a <pao~\v virapx^iu ra 
Trddr), aWo 8e ovQsv. o9eu Ka\ 
t))v (f)coj/^]v, m}) ovaav irdOos a\Xa 
irdQovs TroL7)TLKr)i/, fx^ yiveo'dai tcov 
virapKrwu. But this is inaccurate. 
The Cyrenaics, we gather from 
the above, cannot have denied the 
existence of things, but only our 
knowledge of their existence. 
The whole of this theory probably 
belongs in the main to the elder 
Aristippus, as will be probable 
from a passage in Plato soon to 
be mentioned. Against Tenne- 
man's notion (Gesch. d. Phil. ii. 



106) that it first came from Theo- 
dore, see Wendt, Phil. Cyr. 45. 

1 Sext. Math. vii. 195 : %v6ev 
oi/Se KpiTTjpiov <pao"L elvai KOivbv 
dvdpdoTr&i/, bvofxaTa Se Koivdridecrdai 
ro?s Kpi/jLacri. AevKbv /ui€U yap tl 
Kal yhvKv K.aKovo'i kolv&s irdpres, 
koivov Se tl XevKbv 77 y\vKv ovk 
exovoriv ■ eKao'TOS yap rod iBiov 
irddovs avriXafxfidveTai. to Se el 
tovto to irdQos airb XevKod eyyi- 
veTai avT$ na\ tgS 7reAas, ovt 1 
avTbs dvvaTai \eyeiv, fj.^ avadexo- 
fxevos to tov 7reAas irddos, ovt€ 6 
irehas, jjlt) auadexo/J-euos to eKeiuov 
. . . Ta%a yap iyeb fxkv ovtcc 
crvyKeKpi/iaL a>s \evKaiveo~6ai virb 
tov €^wdeu TrpocnriirTOUTOs, erepos 
Se ovtw Kar€0'Kevao'iuLei/7]v %x ei T V 
aio , Qy)0'ir, &(rT6 eTe'pcos diaTed^uai, 
in support of which the example 
of a jaundiced or diseased eye- 
sight is adduced. It follows 
then : Koiva /jlev rjfias bvofxaTa 
TiQevai to7s irpdyjj.ao'i f iraQf] Se' ye 
%X eLV *Sia. 

2 The last point has been too 
much lost sight of by Schleier- 
macher (Plato's Werke, ii. 1, 183), 
when he considers the description 
of the Protagorean teaching in the 
Thesetetus to be chiefly meant 
for Aristippus, whose view does 
not absolutely coincide with that 
of Protagoras. See Wendt, Phil. 



FEELINGS THE SUBJECT OF KNOWLEDGE. 



299 



as something not wanted for their purposes and 
transcending the limits of human knowledge, 1 the 
Heraclitean doctrine of the perpetual flux of things. 
If, however, knowledge is confined to a knowledge 
of feelings, it would be absurd for us to seek for a 
knowledge of things. Such a knowledge once for all 
is impossible. In this way the sceptical attitude in 
respect to knowledge, which the Cyrenaics assumed, 
was the ground of their conviction of the worthless- 
ness of all physical enquiries. 2 But it also follows 
that the standard which directs the aim of actions 



Chap. 
XIV. 



Cyr. 37. On the other hand, the 
difference between them is ex- 
aggerated by the Academician in 
Cic, who ascribes to Protagoras 
a view entirely different to that 
of the Cyrenaics, and by Ens. 
Pr. Ev. xiv. 19, 5, who after 
discussing the Cyrenaics intro- 
duces Protagoras with these 
words : eirerai tovtois ovv avve- 
^erd(jai kolI robs tyjv ivavriav 
fiadi&vras, kcu Trdvra XP^ vai 
TrtcrreveLv rats rov (T(jojj.aros aladr}- 
creffiv opi(ra(j.€i/ovs, for Protagoras 
only asserted the truth of all 
perceptions in the sense that they 
were all true for him who per- 
ceived them, that things were to 
each one what they appeared to 
him to be. In this sense the 
Cyrenaics, as Sextos has rightly 
shown, declared all to be true, 
but both they and Protagoras 
said nothing about their objective 
truth. Herrman's objection to 
this, Ges. Ab, 235, on the ground 
that Protagoras was far more 
subjective than Aristippus, since 
Aristippns presupposed an agree- 
ment amongst men in describing 



their impressions, is in the first 
place still more at variance with 
the statements of Cicero and 
Eusebius, for they do not make 
Protagoras more subjective than 
Aristippus, but Aristippus more 
subjective than Protagoras. In 
the next place it is not correct. 
Of course Protagoras did not 
deny that certain names were 
used by all, but what is the use 
of agreeing in names, when the 
things differ ? The Cyrenaics are 
only more accurate than Pro- 
tagoras in asserting that per- 
ceptions which are called by the 
same name are not the same in 
different persons. But there is 
no disagreement in the teaching 
of the two. 

1 If they acted consistently, 
they must have regarded as such 
every attempt at a physical ex- 
planation of our perceptions. We 
must, therefore, not be misled by 
Plut. K P. Suav. Vivi sec. Epic. 
4, 5, so as to attribute to them. 
the view of Demoeritus about 
pictures and emanating forms. 

2 As Diog. ii. 92 remarks. 



300 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. and tests their value, is itself determined by feeling 

XIV. . jo 

! alone. For if all that is known to us about things 



consists in our own feelings, feelings are all that we 
can act upon: and the best course of action will 
therefore be to gratify our feelings as far as possible. 1 
In this way the Cyrenaic theory of knowledge leads 
back to ethical principles, which it was the main 
object of their previous enquiries to establish. 
(c) Plea- Following Protagoras, Aristippus assumes that all 

sure and j?v • 1. • • i * j j? • • x. 1 j_ • • i • 

itsopposite. deling consists m a kind oi internal motion in him 

who has the feeling. If the motion is gentle, the 

feeling is one of pleasure; if violent and rough, 

of pain ; if again we are in a state of repose, or the 

motion is so weak as to be imperceptible, there is no 

feeling either of pleasure or pain. 2 Of these three 

1 Sext. Math. vii. 199 : avdKoya %uav Kii/rjaij/. Ibid. 89, 90: /Jiecras 
5e elvcu So/cet to7s irepl KpiT7)picov re KaTaa , rd(T€LS wvofxa^ov drjdoviav 
Xeyo^vois Kara tovtovs tovs dv- KaXdtroviav. Sext. Pyrrh. i. 215: 
dpas K<x\ rd irepl T€\6oi/ \€y6/j.ei/a' [r)Kvp7}vaiK7] dycoy^ rriur]dovrjV Kal 
hiilKei yap rd ndOrj koX iirl rd Tr\v Xeiav T7?s aapKbs KLvt\<nv reAos 
reXr), Ibid. 200. cTvcu Xeyei. Math. vii. 199 : vtav 

2 Euseb. Pr. Ev. xiv. 18, 32, ydpizdQcav rd \xkv Icjtiv yhea, rdSe 
says of the younger Aristippus aXyeivd, rd 5e /xera^v. That these 
on the authority of Aristocles : statements referred on the whole 
rpe7s ydp €<pr) Karacrdcreis eluai to the elder Aristippus, appears 
irepl tV 7}fieT€pav crvyKpacriv • fxiau to be established by several 
p.\v kclO' %v dhyoviisv, ioiKvlav t£ passages in the Philebus. After 
Kara QaKacraav x*»/*ww krkpov Se Socrates (p. 31, B.) has shown 
naff %v ^5ojue0a, t<£ Aeta> Kv/jcari that pain consists in a violation, 
€<po/jLOLoviuL€vr)v' dvai ydp Xsiav kl- and pleasure in a restoration, of 
vt\(nv tV 7)§ovr\v ovpicp irapafiaX- the natural connection between 
Xo\x£vr\v dv€ficp ' tt)v 5e TpiT7]js the parts of a living being, he 
fi€0"nu elvai KaTd<rra(Tiv, kclO 3 %v connects with it (p. 42, D.) the 
ovT€d\yoviJ.epovT€r)d6iJL€9a,ya\7]vr] question: What would happen 
TTapairK^iTiov ovaav. Diog. ii. 86, if neither of these changes were 
says almost the same of older Cy- to take place? When the re- 
renaic school : bto irddr) v(f>i(Trauro, presentative of the theory of 
7rovov teal rjdov^u, rrju fxev Xetav /a- pleasure has answered in a way 
vt)(tlv t V r)dovf]v, rbv 5e irovov rpa- afterwards repeated by Plato, 



PLEASURE AND PAIN. 



301 



states, that of pleasure is alone unconditionally desir- 
able. This is proved by nature itself ; for all follow 
pleasure as the highest end, and avoid nothing so 
much as pain, 1 unless the general opinion of mankind 
is perverted by unfounded fancies. 2 It would not be 
right to put absence from pain in the place of plea- 
sure, for where there is no internal motion, pleasure 
and pain are equally impossible, and there can only 
be a state devoid of all feeling, as in sleep. 3 Thus 
the good comes to be identical with what is agreeable 
— with pleasure ; the evil, with what is disagreeable, 



Chap. 
XIV. 



Eep. ix. 583, C, that in this case 
there would be neither pleasure nor 
pain, he continues : kcUaictt' el-rres ' 
aWayap, oT/xaijToSe Keyeis, cos dei 
ri rovrcou dvayKaiov y\\xiv crvfA- 
fiaiveiv, coy ol (Tocpoi (paffiv' del yap 
diravra dvco re koX Karoo pel, upon 
which the answer is limited to 
mean, that great changes produce 
pleasure and pain, but small ones 
neither. On p. 53, C, he comes 
back to the same view with the 
words : dpa irepl rjdovrjs oi'K dicr)- 
Kodixev, cos del yepeais icrriv, ovcria 
8e ovk eari rb irapdirai/ rjdovrjs ; 
KOfxtyol yap 877 rives ad rovrov rbv 
\6yov eiuxeipov(ri ixy)vveiv T}\xiv, ols 
Set x&p LV *X eLJ/ - These latter 
words clearly prove that the 
assertion, all pleasure consists in 
motion, had been uttered by some 
one else, when Plato wrote the 
Philebus, and since with the ex- 
ception of Aristippus no one is 
known to whom they could be 
referred, since moreover this as- 
sertion is universally attributed 
to the School of Aristippus, since 
too the epithet Ko/j.\pbs suits him 
best, it is most probable that both 



this passage and the passage con- 
nected with it on the two kinds of 
motion and rest, come from him. 
The same applies to the remark, 
that small changes make no im- 
pression. Diog. ii. 85, records of 
Aristippus : rehos 5' dirotyaive r^v 
Keiav klvt](Tiv els tii(jQy\Giv duadido- 
fievnu, according to which a slight 
motion is not felt and does not 
produce pleasure. 

1 Diog. 88 ; 87 ; Plato, Phil. 
11, B. 

2 Diog. 89 : dvuaaOai Be <pa<xi 
kcl\ tV t)Bov7]v rivas fx^] aipeiadai 
Kara diacTpocpTjv. 

3 Diog. 89 : 7} 5e rod aXyovvros 
vTvepaipeuis (cos eXpr\rai irao 'E7rt- 
Kovpco) hoKel abruls jU.77 elvat r)dovr), 
ovbe r) arjSovia aKytfioov. ev kwt]- 
o~ei yap eivai afjccporepa, /ult] ovctt]S 
rris anovias 7) rrjs arjSovlas Kivi\- 
aeoos. eirel 77 airovia oiov tcadev- 
Bovr6s ecrri Kardcrraais. Such 
explicit statements probably be- 
long to a later time, and are due 
principally to the School of Anni- 
ceris in contrast to Epicure ac- 
cording to Clement, Strom, ii. 
417, B. 



302 THE SO CR A TIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. or pain ; and what affords neither pleasure nor pain 

XIV 

" can be neither good nor evih 1 



(d) The It follows, as a matter of course, from the view 

highest taken by these philosophers, that individual feelings 
of pleasure must, as such, be the ends of all actions. 
Simple repose of mind, that freedom from pain, in 
which Epicurus at a later time placed the highest 
good, was not the highest good of the Cyrenaics, for 
the reason already mentioned. 2 Nor did it appear to 
them altogether satisfactory to make happiness, which 
should conduct us to the greatest amount of pleasure 
that can be enjoyed in a life time, the guiding 
star of a whole life ; for this would require the past 
and the future as well as the present to be included 
in our calculations, neither of which are in our power, 
or always certain to afford enjoyment. A future 
feeling of pleasure is a motion which is yet future, a 
past one is one which has already ceased. 3 The one 

1 Sext. Math. vii. 199 : ra ^ikv sensns dulciter ae jucunde move- 
akyeivd nana <pounv elvai, &v riXos tur . . . nee Aristippus, qui to- 
aAytfdov, ra 8e r)dia dyaSd, &v luptatem sumnium bonum dicit, 
r4\os io~r\v abidtyevarov rjdown, tcl in Yoluptate ponit non dolere. 
5e fiera^v ovre dya8d ovre Kaicd, 13. 39 : Aristippi Cyrenaicorum- 
&v TeAos to oure dyadbv ovr* que omnium ; quos non est veri- 
kclkov, oTrep irdQos iar\ percc^v rjdo- turn in ea yoluptate quae maxime 
vr\s kol d\y7i$6j/os. dulcedine sensum moveret, sum- 

2 Diog. ii. 87 : fitiovfyv fxevroi mum bonum ponere, contem- 
rr\v rod crdofxaTos r\v kcu Te'Aos elvcu, nentes istam Yaeuitatem doloris. 
KaOd (prjcTL kcu UavaiTLOS iu rw 3 Diog. 87 " So/ce? 5' avrois kcu 
irepl rwu cupecrecoj/, ov tt\v Kara- TeAos evdaifioj/ias dicvpepeiv. TeAos 

(TTTl/LiaTlKTlV 7]8oV7]V T7JV eV WCLL- fX^V ydp tlvCU TTjV KCLTa /J.€pOS 7}8o- 

pecreL aXyrjdovcau kcu oTov avo^X?}- P7)v, ebScufioviav 8e to 4k roov 

<ria.v, t)v 6 ^TTiKovpos dirodexeToiL fiepLKooj/ 7]dovu>u avcTT^fxa, ais o~vva- 

KaX TeAos dvai (prjo~i. Perhaps piQ/jLOvvrcu kcu at irapcoxv^cu kcu 

the words in Cic. Fin. ii. 6, 18, are at fieAXovacu. elvcu re rr,v fiepi- 

taken from a similar passage : kt)v 7/807/771/ o*l clvtt]v alper-fjj/ • ttjv 

aut enim earn voluptatem tuere- 8' evdaiixoviav ov 81 avrrii/, aXXa 

tur, quam Aristippus, i. e. qua 8id rets Kara /xepos 7]8ovds. 89 : 



THE HIGHEST GOOD. 



303 



thing to be learned in life is the art which teaches us 
to enjoy the present moment. The present is alone 
ours. Forbear then to be distressed by the remem- 
brance of what is already past or by the thought of 
what has yet to come and may never be yours. 1 

The character of the things which afford us plea- 
sure is in itself unimportant. Every pleasure as such 
is a good, and there is no difference between one 
kind of enjoyment and another. Pleasure may spring 
from various, even from opposite sources, but con- 
sidered by itself as enjoyment, it is always the same — 
as good in one case as in another, a pleasurable in- 
ternal emotion and always equally a natural object of 
desire. 2 The Cyrenaics do not therefore allow that 



Chap. 

xrv. 



aAAa /xV ovle Kara fiv^/irju tSjv 
<rya0wy t) irpooSoKiav 7}§uvr\v cpacriv 
air or eXelcr Ozi, oirep r\pecTKev 'Eiri- 
Kovpca. eKXveaQai yap tw Xp° pc i> 
rb rrjs $vxys KLP7]jiia. Ibid. 91 : 
apKti Se kolu Kara filar [7)80*/ V] 
ris Trpocrir far over av riDecos eiravayrj. 
Athen. xii. 544, a : ['Apfcrrwnros] 
airode^dfievos rr\v ridvirdOeiav rav- 
ri\v reXos ehai ecprj Kal iv avrf) 
rhv evdaifioviav PePxijcrdai nai fio- 
voxpovov avr^u elvat ' TrapairAr)- 
ericos rots d<JcoroLS ovre tV pvhfiriv 
rcov yeyovvioov cltt oXaverewv Trpbs 
avrbv riyov/iepos ovre rrju eXirida 
rwv aerofxevwv, aXX , ev\ fiovcp rb 
ayaSbv npivoov r<$ irdpovri, rb Se 
aivoXeXavKhai ftal airoXavereiv ov- 
6ez/ vo/iifav irpbs avrou, rb [iev us 
ovk er oy, to 5e ovinia Kai &dr)Xoj/. 
JElian V. H. xiv. 6 : trdvv crepoSp* 
ippoo/xevoos tcpKei Xeysiv 6 'Api- 
arnriros, Trapeyyvoov, fi7]re ro7s ira- 
peXQoveriv iiriKafiveLV, fii)r€ reav 
einovroov iryoKaiiveiv' evdvfiias yap 
delyfia rb roiovro, kcl\ 'tXeea Sid- 
voias air jdei£is ' irpoererarre 5e i(p> 



7]fiepa rr]v yv&\if)v exeiv KCL ^ a v 
iraXiv rrjs rjfiepas eir eKeivcp rep 
fiepei nad' eKaerros 77 it par ret. 
ri 7) evvoei ■ fiovov yap etyacrKev 
7]jj.er€pov eivai rb irapov, ftrjre 8e 
rb cpBdvov firjre rb irpoerfioK&fievov ' 
rb fikv yap a7roAcoAeVcu, to 8e dBrj- 
Xov eivai eiirep tar at. That Ari- 
stippus had already propounded 
these views, is all the less doubt- 
ful, since his whole life presup- 
poses them, and his other views 
immediately lead to them. The 
precise form ul arising of them 
may very possibly belong to the 
period of Epicurus. 

J Diog. 66 : cmeXave fiev yap 
[Apio"Ti7T7roy] tjoovtjs twc trapov- 
rccp, ovk eOrjpa 5/' ttoj/oj rrjv airo- 
Xaveriv r(hv oh -rrapovrcou ' o&tv Kal 
Aioyeviqs fiacriXiKbi/ Kvva eXeyev 
avrov. 

2 Diog. 87 : fify b*ia<p€peiv re 
7)§ovriv rjdovrjs, firjde t\Di6v ri efj/ai. 
Plato, Phileo. 12, D., where the 
supporter of pleasure answers 
the objection of Socrates that 



304 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. there are any pleasures not only declared by law and 
* custom to be bad, but bad by their very nature. Plea- 



sure in their view may be occasioned by a disreput- 
able action, but in as far as it is enjoyment, it is 
nevertheless good and desirable. 1 
(e) Modi- At the same time several additional considerations 

fied 'form were introduced, by which the severity of this theory 
of this ex- . 

treme view, was considerably modified, and its applications limited. 
In the first place, the Cyrenaics could not deny that 
notwithstanding their essential similarity there were 
3?et differences of degree in feelings of pleasure : 
for granting that every pleasure is good, it does not 
follow that the same amount of good belongs to all, 
on the contrary one pleasure deserves to be preferred 
to another, in proportion to the amount of enjoyment 
it affords. 2 Just as little did it escape their notice, 

good and bad pleasures ought to ytvrjrai, Ka6d (p-ncriv 'Intro &oros ev 

be distinguished : elal fxev yap rop trepl alpeueoov. el yap Kal rj 

an evavrioov .... avrai trpay/jid- trpd^is drotros en7, aXX' ovv i) 

ra>v, ov ixr,v avrai ye aXXvXais rjbovr) Si aurrjv alperr] Kal dyadov. 
evavriai. trcos yap rjfiovr) ye rjdovrj 2 Diog. 87 says that the Cy- 

/ult] ovx ofMOLorarou dv eXi), rovro renaics denied a difference in 

avrb eavrca, trdvrojv, xp^^ TO0V '■> degrees of pleasures, but this is 

Ibid. 13, A.: Xeyeis yap ayaOa undoubtedly a mistake. Diog. ii. 

trdvra elvai rd ^5ea, for this may 90, says that they taught that 

be possible in the case of the bodily feelings of pleasure and 

worst pleasures? to which Pro- pain were stronger than mental 

tarchus replies: nuts Xeyeis & ones. Plato too, Phil. 45, A. ; 

^coKpares ; oXei yap Tiva crvyxoop-f]- 65, E., in the spirit of this School, 

aeffOaL, de/jievov t]^ovt]v elvai rdya- talks of fxeyiarai rccv rjdovoov, and 

66v, elra dve£eo~Qai gov Xeyovros there is nothing in their system 

rds fxev elvai vivas dyadds ydovds, to require absolute equality in 

rds de rivas erepas avrobv Kands. all enjoyments. They could not 

Just as little will Protarchus (36, allow that there was an absolute 

C.) allow that there is imaginary difference of value between them, 

pleasure and pain. that some were good and others 

1 Diog. 88 : elvai 5e rtyv rifiovfyv were bad, but they had no occa- 

dyadbv khv dnb roov do* xwot droop sion to deny a relative difference 



CYRENAIC THEORY OF PLEASURE. 



305 



that many enjoyments are only purchased at the cost 
of still greater pain, on which account they consi- 
dered it to be difficult to secure unbroken happiness. 1 
They therefore required the consequences of an action 
to be considered, and in this way endeavoured to re- 
vive the distinction between good and evil attaching 
to actions — a distinction which they had originally 
refused to allow. An action should be avoided when 
more pain follows from it than pleasure, and on 
this account a man of sense will abstain from things 
which are condemned by the laws of the state and 
public opinion. 2 They also directed their attention 
to the difference between the body and the mind. 3 
The pains and pleasures of the body, they held, were 
more pungent than those of the mind ; 4 and they 



Chap. 
XIV. 



of more or less good, and they 
might even allow of different 
kinds of pleasures, those of the 
body and mind for instance. 
Eitter's remarks on Diog. ii. 103, 
do not appear conclusive. Those 
of Wendt's Phil. Cyr. 34, on the 
other hand, may well be enter- 
tained. He says that the Cyre- 
naics only denied that one object 
taken by itself and independently 
of our feelings was more pleasant 
than another. 

1 Diog. 90 : 5ib Kal Ka6 y avrrjp 
aiperris ovaws rrjs rjSovris rd iroi7\- 
rtKa iuiwv ??5oj/a>i> ox^-Vpd 7roA- 
Kolkls ivavTiovaQat ' a>s SvcrKoAco- 
toltov oajtoIs <paivecr8ai rhv ddpoi- 
(T/Jibv row rfiov&v evbaifxoj/iau 7roi- 
ovvrwv. 

2 Diog. 93 : /x^SeV rt uvai 
<pv(T€L Ukoliov 7) kolXov t) alcrxpov, 
since the value of every action 
depends on the pleasure which 



follows it, aAAa vofjLO) Kal eflei, 

6 fxivTOl (T7TOuda7oS OvfiklS &TO-KQP 

irpd£ei did tcls iiriK€tfji4vas (Tljuias 
Kal 56(as. Wendt (Phil. Cyr. 25) 
calls the accuracy of this state- 
ment in question without rea- 
son, but he is right in rejecting 
Schleiermacher's hypothesis (PI. 
W. ii. 1, 183 ; ii. 2, 18), that in 
the Gorgias Aristippus is being 
refuted under the name of Calli- 
cles, and in the Cratylus 384, 
D., under that of Hermogenes. 

3 Which, strictly speaking, they 
could only have done by saying 
that one portion of our impres- 
sions appears to us to come from 
the body, another not: for they 
had long since given up all real 
knowledge of things. But their 
consistency hardly went so far 
as this. 

4 Diog. ii. 90 : tto\v [xeuroi 

TOQV tyvXlK&V TCLS (T(t)}JLaTlKaS djld- 



308 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap; 

XIV. 



endeavoured to show that bodily sensibility is the 
condition of all pleasure and pain ; ] but at the same 
time they maintained that some addition to sen- 
suous feelings must come from elsewhere, or it 
would be impossible to explain how unequal impres- 
sions are produced by perceptions altogether alike — 
for instance, by the sight of real suffering and by the 
►sight of suffering merely on the stage. 2 They even 
went so far as to allow that there are pleasures and 
pains of the mind which have no reference to any 
states of the body. The prosperity, for instance, of our 
country fills us with as much pleasure as does our own. 3 



I'OVS GiVCU Kal TOLS d\^'ho'€lS X*' l P 0VS 

ras (Toc/jLariKas • ftdev Kal ravrais 
KoAd^effdai fxaWov robs afiaprd- 
vovtols. (The same, Ibid. x. 137.) 
yaXeTrclorepov yap rb trovetv^ oiKei- 
orepou 5e rb ^Secflcu vTrs\d\A$avov • 
oQev Kal Trheiova olKOvo/xiav irept 
Odrepov iiroiovuro. 

1 This is indicated by the ex- 
pression olKeioT^pov in the pas- 
sage above. The assertion that 
not all pleasure and pain is con- 
nected with bodily states, may be 
brought into harmony with this 
statement by taking it to mean 
that every such feeling is not im- 
media tely connected with the body, 
without, however, denying a more 
remote connection between such 
feelings and the body. Joy for 
one's country's prosperity might 
in their minds be connected with 
the thought that our own happi- 
ness depends on that of our 
country. It can only be con- 
sidered an opponent's exaggera- 
tion, when Panaetius and Cicero 
assert that the Cyrenaics made 



bodily pleasure the end of life. 
Cic. Acad. iv. 45, 139 : Aristippus, 
quasi animum nullum habeamus, 
corpus solum tuetur. The highest 
good Aristippus declared consists 
not in bodily pleasure, but in 
pleasure generally ; and if he 
regarded bodily pleasure as the 
strongest, and in this sense as 
the best, it by no means follows 
that he excluded mental pleasures 
from the idea of good. And his 
remarks about the value of in- 
telligence make this probable. 

2 Diog. 90 : \eyovo~i Be /n-nde 
Kara $t\r}V r))v opacnv % rr]v aKorji/ 
yiveffdai rjdovds, ra>v yovv fxifxov- 
fxevwv 6pr\vovs Tjdews aKovofieu, 
T&v 5e kclt dx4)9siav dr)8&>s. The 
same is found in Plut. Qu. Conv. 
v. 1, 2, 7. Here belongs Cic. 
Tusc. ii, 13, 28. 

3 Diog. 89 : ov Trdcas /jlgvtoi 
ras ipvxi^as rj^ouas Kal dKyrjhuvas 
€T>\ aoouariKats 7]$ova7s kz\ d\yr)- 
d6(TL yiveadai' Kal yap eirl r|/iA?7 
rf} rrjs irarpidos €vr]/u.€pia Sxnrep 
rfi IBia \apav iyyivecrdai. 



CYRENAIC THEORY OF PLEASURE, 307 

Although pleasure is in general made to coincide Chap, 



with the good, and pain with the evil, the Cyrenaics 
are far from expecting happiness to result from the 
mere satisfaction of animal instincts. To enjoy life 
truly, we need not only to take into account the 
value and the consequences of every enjoyment, but 
we need also to acquire the proper disposition of 
mind. The help most essential to leading a pleasant 
life is intelligence — not alone because it supplies that 
presence of mind which is never at a loss for means, 1 
but, above all, because it teaches us how to make a 
proper use of the good things of life ; 2 because it frees 
us from the prejudices and fancies which stand in the 
way of happiness, such as envy, passionate love, super- 
stition ; 3 because it guards us from regretting the 
past, from desiring the future, from being dependent 
on the pleasure of the moment; and because it 
guarantees to us that freedom of soul, of which we 
may at any moment stand in need to give us content- 
ment with our present lot. 

The cultivation of the mind was earnestly recom- 
mended by these philosophers, 4 and philosophy was 
pointed to as the one way to true virtue in life. 5 

1 See the anecdotes and pro- abrols. The thought is Socratic. 
verbs in Diog. 68 ; 73 ; 79 ; 82, 3 Diog. 91 : rov aocpov /jLrjre 
and what Galen. Exhort, e. 5, cpOovno-eiu fi^re epaadrio-efrBcu t) 
and Vitruv. vi., Prsef. i., say of f>€i<n$aifxowfio'€ii>, whereas he is not 
his shipwreck. Conf. Stob. Ekl. preserved from the natural con- 
ed. G-ais. App. ii. 13, 138. sequences of fear and sorrow. 

2 Demetr. (Elocut, 96) mentions 4 Many expressions to this 
as an elb'osTovA6'yov , ApLo~Tnnre?ov' effect are on record, particularly 
otl ol &udpcerroL xpV aTa l^ v ^ 7ro ' those of Aristippus, Diog. ii. 69 ? 
Keiirovo'i to?s ircualv, ein(rri]}iy]v Se 70, 72, 80. 

ov o-vvairoteiitovci tV xP r l cro l J -* 1/7 l 1/ 5 See the saying of Aristippus 
x 2 



XIV. 



308 THE 80 CHAT 1C SCHOOLS. 

Chap. It was even declared to be the essential condition of 
'_ happiness ; for although mankind is too far depend- 
ent on external circumstances for the wise man to be 
invariably happy, and the foolish man invariably 
miserable, wisdom and happiness, folly and misery, 
generally go together. 1 Although happiness as the 
main object in life was not renounced by this School^ 
it was made to be something different from w 7 hat at 
first it appeared to be. 
0. The All that is further known about the views and con- 

m-actice duct °f Aristippus is in harmony with this thought. 
of the His leading thought is comprised in the adage, that 

life offers most to one who, though he never denies 
himself a pleasure, at every moment continues master 
of himself and of circumstances. Of the Cynic free- 
dom from wants Aristippus knew nothing. Prudent 
enjoyment is a greater art, he maintained,' 2 than ab- 
stemiousness. And his own life was not only com- 
fortable, it was in fact luxurious. 3 He enjoyed good 

in Diog. ii. 72 ; Plut. Ed, Pu. 7. of the School against the Cynics 

He is also mentioned as the and Stoics. 

originator of the saying, which 2 Stob. Floril. 17 ; 18: Kparei 

Cic. Rep. i. 2 ; Plut. adv. Col. tjBovyis oi>x o aTrexoM^os, d\?C 6 

30, 2, attribute to Xenocrates, xP ( * ) l jL€VOS h* v A"? irapeKcpepo/uLevos 

that the conduct of the philosopher 5e. Diog. 75 : rb Kparelv teal fjcrj 

would remain the same, supposing rjrracrdai rjdouwv updrKTrov, ov rb 

all laws were abolished, Diog. ydi xpV<rQ<*> 1 - 

ii. 68. 3 Xen. Mem. ii. 1, 1, already 

1 Diog. 91: apeacei 5' abrols calls him aKoXaarorepus %x 0VTa 

fjL-tire rbv aocpbv nduTa r/Secos Qrjv, npbs n a roiavra \_irpbs iiridv/jLLav 

JU7}T€ irdvra <pav\ou iirLirouus, fipoorov na\ ttotou kclI ' Xayveias'], 

aAAa Kara rb irXziarov. In etc. He says himself that his 

the same way the Cyrenaics object is y paard n kol rjSio-ra 

would not deny that the &<ppoves fiioreveiv and Socratps asks 

were capable of certain virtues, whether he chose to have no 

which, however, was only ex- home, because he felt sure that no 

pressly stated by later members one could like to have him even as 



PRACTICAL LIFE OF CYREXAICS. 



309 



living/ wore costly clothing, 2 scented himself with 
perfumes, 3 and caroused with mistresses. 4 Nor were 
the means neglected by which this mode of life was 
rendered possible. On the contrary, he argued that 
the more means any one possessed, the more fully 
was the enjoyment of life placed in his power. Kiches, 
he said, were not like shoes, which when too large 
could not be used. 5 Hence he not only demanded 
payment for his instruction, but, in order to enrich 
himself, he did not hesitate, as we have seen, to bear 
what any other philosopher would have considered 
below his dignity. 6 The fear of death too, which his 



CHAt. 

XIV. 



a slave ? ris yap av £84koi avQpwirov 
iv oIklcl %%ziv irovsiv fxhv fjL7)$eV 
40€\ovTa, rfj 8e iroAvTeKecrraTr] 
hia'nri x^povTa ; this picture was 
afterwards more deeply coloured 
by later writers, and certainly 
not without exaggeration. See 
Athen. xii. 544 ; Timon in Diog. 
ii. 66 ; Ibid. ii. 69, iv. 40; Lucian 
V. Auct. 12 ; Clement Psedag. ii. 
176, D. ; Eus. Pr. Ev. xiv. 18, 31 ; 
Epiph. Exp. Eid. 1089 A. 

1 See the anecdotes in Diog. ii. 
66, 68, 69, 75, 76. 

2 Max. Tyr. Diss. vii. 9 ; 
Lucian. Tatian adv. Grrac. c. 2 ; 
Tert. Apol. 46. 

3 That he made use of fragrant 
perfumes, and defended this 
practice, is told by Seneca, Benef. 
vii. 25, 1 ; Clem. Psed. ii. 176, D., 
179, B., Diog. 76, all apparently 
taken from the same source. 

4 His relations to Lais are 
well known. Athen. xiii. 599, 
588 ; xii. 544 ; Cic. ad Div. ix. 26 ; 
Plut. Erot. 4, 5 ; Diog. 74, 85 ; 
Clement, Strom, ii. 411, C. ; 
Lact. Inst. iii. 15. A few other 



stories of the same kind may be 
found, Dios. 67 ; 69 ; 81 ; iv. 40. 

5 Stob. Eloril. 94, 32. 

6 Here belong many of the 
anecdotes which relate to Ari- 
stippus' stay at the court of 
Dionysius. According to Diog. 
77 » Aristippus is said to have 
announced to Dionysius, on his 
arrival, that he came to impart 
what he had, and to receive what 
he had not; or, according to 
another account, he said that 
when he wanted instruction he 
went to Socrates to obtain it, now 
that he wanted money, he had 
come to Dionysius. Diog. 69, 
makes him tell Dionysius that the 
reason why philosophers appeared 
before the doors of the rich, and 
not the opposite, was because, phi- 
losophers knew what they wanted, 
whilst the rich did not. The 
same is found in Stob. Floril. 3, 
46. See also Diog. 70 and 81. 
Of the liberal offers made by 
Dionysius to Plato, he remarks 
in Plut. Dio. 19: acrcpaXccs ineya- 
\6\pvxov elvcu Aiovvaiov clvtols 



olO 



THE S0CEAT1C SCHOOLS. 



Chaf. 
XIV. 



teaching professed to drive away, 1 was not so fully 
overcome by him that he could face danger with the 
composure of a Socrates. 2 

It would, however, be doing Aristippus a great in- 
justice to consider him a mere lover of enjoyment, or 
at best as a pleasure-seeker endowed with a brilliant 
wit. Enjoyment he loved, but, at the same time, he 
loved to be above enjoyment. He possessed not only 
the flexibility which could adapt itself to any cir- 



ixkv yap fjiiKpa didovai tt\€l6vcov 
Bio/jleuols, liXdraovL 5e iroKXd fjL7)dhv 
XafxfiavovTi. When Dionysius 
once refused to giA r e him any 
money because the wise man, on 
his own showing, was never in 
difficulties, he replied, Give me 
the money this once, and I will 
explain to you how it is ; but no 
sooner had he got it, than he 
exclaimed, Ah ! was I not right ? 
Diog. 82 ; Diog. 67, 73, and Athen. 
xii. 544, tell further, that when 
he had once been placed at the 
end of the table by Dionysius 
because of some free expression 
of his, he contented himself with 
remarking, To-day it is my lot 
to be honoured by him with 
this place. . Another time, when 
Dionysius spat in his face, he is 
said to have borne it complacently, 
adding : A fisherman must put 
up with more moisture, to catch 
even a smaller fish. Once, when 
begging a favour for a friend, he 
fell at the feet of Dionysius, Diog. 
79, and when reproached for so 
doing, Why, he asked, has Diony- 
sius ears on his legs? It is a 
common story that Dionysius 
once asked him and Plato to 



appear dressed in purple : Plato 
refused to do so, but Aristippus 
acceded with a smile. Sext. 
Pyrrh. iii. 204, i. 155 ; Diog. 78 ; 
Suid. 'Apto-T. ; Stob. Floril. 5, 46 ; 
Greg. Naz. Carm. ii. 10, 324 : the 
latter unfortunately thinks that 
it happened at the court of 
Archelaus. He also observes in 
reference to Plato, Diog. 81, that 
he allowed himself to be abused 
by Dionysius for the same reasons 
that others abused him : a preacher 
of morals after all has an eye to 
his own interests. He is re- 
presented as a flatterer and 
parasite of Dionysius, by Lucian 
V. Aut. 12; Parasit,33,Bis Accus. 
23; Mem. 13. 

1 See Diog. 76 : at the same 
time the Cyrenaics consider fear 
to be something natural and un- 
avoidable 

2 On the occasion of a storm at 
sea he was charged with displaying 
more fear than others, notwith- 
standing his philosophy, to which 
he adroitly replied : ob yap ?repl 
6/jLoias tyvxws dycavicofxev d/ji(p6r€poi, 
Diog. 71 ; G-ell.xix. 1, 10; iElian 
V. H. ix. 20. 



PRACTICAL LIFE OF CYRENAICS. 



:J11 



cumstances and make use of persons and things, 1 not 
only the wit which was never at a loss for a ready 
answer/ but he possessed a calmness and indepen- 
dence of mind, which was able to forego pleasure 
without a pang, to bear loss with composure, to be 



("hap. 

xiy. 



1 Diog. 66: fiv 5e iKavbs ap^Saa- 
udou Kal TOirip Kal XP° V0 ? KCt ^ ^poo-do- 
ttu, Kal iracrav irepLCraciv apuoBioos 
VTToKpii/aadai • Sib Kal irapl Aiovvaicp 
tccv a\Xoov 6vdoKi/j.€L /xdWov, del 
ro irpocnrecrov ev Siaridepievos. A 
few instances of this skill have 
been already seen. Here, too, 
belongs what is told by G-alen. 
d. Yitruv., that after having 
suffered shipwreck and lost every- 
thing, he immediately contrived 
to procure an ample supply of 
necessities. Further, it is stated 
in Plutarch's Dio. 19, that he 
was the first to notice the growing 
estrangement between Dionysius 
and Plato. In Dio£. 68, he 
answers the question, What good 
he has got from philosophy, by 
saying: rb §vva<rdai iracndappovp- 
rcos djj.iK€?v — and Diog. 79, relates 
that when he was brought as a 
captive before Artaphernes, and 
some one asked him, how he 
liked his situation, he replied, 
that now he was perfectly at rest. 
The answer which he is reported 
to have given to Diogenes (which, 
however, is told of others), is 
well-known (Diog. vi. 08, ii. 102) : 

€i7T6p T7&61S duQpdoTTOLS 6lJLl\€tV, OVK 

av Kaxava eir\vves. Diog. 68 ; 
Hor. Ep. i. 17, 13; Yaler. Max. 
iv. 3. 

2 In a similar way he could 
defend his luxuriousnes-s. When 
some one blamed him for giving 
fifty drachmae for a partridge, 
Aristippus asked, if he would 



have given a farthing for it : 
and when the reply was in the 
affirmative, I, said Aristippus, do 
not care more for fifty drachmae 
than you do for a farthing. 
Diog. ^66, 75 ; Athen. viii. 343. 
Another time he argues that if 
good living were wrong, it would 
not be employed to honour the 
festivals of the gods. Ibid. 68. 
Another time, when some one 
took him to task for his good 
living, he asked him to dinner ; 
and when the invitation was 
accepted, he at once drew the 
conclusion that he must be too 
stingy to live well himself. Ibid. 
76. When he received from 
Dionysius the offer of a choice 
of three mistresses, he chose 
them all, with the gallant obser- 
vation, that it had been a bad 
thing for Paris to prefer one of 
three goddesses. Ibid. 67. When 
attacked for his relations to Lais, 
he answered with the well-known, 
ex<* Kal ovk exofJ-cLi. The same 
relation is said to have given rise 
to other light jokes, such as that 
it was all the same to him 
whether the house in which he 
lived had been occupied by others 
before; or that he did not care 
whether a fish liked him, if he 
liked the fish ; and the same 
Cynicism is betrayed by the anec- 
dotes in Diog. 81, although the} r 
are not otherwise at variance with 
Grecian morals. 



312 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XIV. 



satisfied with what it possessed, and to feel happy in 
any position. His maxim was to enjoy the present and 
not to concern himself either about the future or the 
past, and always to be cheerful. Come what may, there 
is a bright side to things, 1 and he know T s how to wear 
the beggar's rags andthenoble's robe with equal grace. 2 
Pleasure he loves, but he can also dispense with plea- 
sure. 3 He will be master of himself. 4 His temper shall 
not be ruffled by any risings of passion. 5 Some im- 
portance is attached to riches, but hardly any independ- 
ent value, and therefore the want of them is never felt. 
He is lavish of them because he does not slavishly cling 
to money. 6 He can do without riches, if necessary, 7 



1 Hor. Ep. i. 17, 23 : omnis 
Aristippum decuit color et status 
et res, tentantem majora fere, 
prsesentibus sequum. Plut. de 
Vit. Horn. B., 150 : 'Apio-rnnros 
kcu irevia Kal tvovois avprjuexOr] 
epfxa/jihcos Kal rjdovrj a^eiSws 
iXpy&aTo. Diog. 66. 

2 According to Diog. 67, Plato 
is said to have remarked to him : 
co\ fxovcp defiorai Kal -)(Xavi^a. 
(pepeLv Kal paKos. The same re- 
mark is referred to by Pint. Virt. 
Alex. 8 : 'Apiarnnrov Qavfxd^ovoi 
rhv 1,coKpaTiKby '6ti Kal rpificovi 
Xitw Kal MiXyoria x^f JLV ^ L XP^~ 
jxsvos hi a/jLtyorepcov irrjpeL to 
evcrxv^ov, and Hor. Ep. i. 17, 27, 
on which passage the Scholiast 
tells the story how Aristippus 
carried off the sure oat of Diogenes 
from the hath, leaving his purple 
cloak instead, which Diogenes 
refused to wear at any price. 

3 Diog. 67. 

4 6xo) ovk exo/j-ai. Diog. 69, 
tells a saying of the same kind 



which Aristippus uttered on paying 
a visit to his mistress, to the effect 
that there was no need to be 
ashamed of going there, but there 
was of not being able to get 
away. 

5 Plut. N. P. Suav. v. see. Epic. 
4, .5 : ol KvprjvaiKcl . . . ov$e 
SfjLiXeiv atypodiaiois olovrai 5e*v 
/jL€ra ({Herbs, aXXa o~kotos 7rpo- 
de/ievovs, 07ro)S fx^ ra etSccAa rrjs 
irpd^ecos avaXafxfiavovca 5;a tt}s 
6ipea>s Gvepyws iu avrfj 7] Si&voia 
ttoXXolkls avaKatr) ttjp ope^iv. The 
same way of thinking is expressed 
by his defining pleasure to be a 
gentle motion of the mind. The 
storms of passion would change 
this gentle motion into a violent 
one, and turn pleasure into pain. 

6 See the story that he bade 
his servant who was carrying a 
heavy burden of gold cast away 
what was too much for him. 
Hor. Serm. ii. 3, 99 ; Diog. 77. 

7 When he got on to a pirate 
vessel, he threw his money into 



PRACTICAL LIFE OF CYRENAICS. 



313 



and is readily consoled for the loss of them. 1 To 
him no possession appears more valuable than con- 
tentment, 2 no disease worse than avarice. 3 He lives 
an easy life, but he is not on that account afraid of 
exertion, and approves of bodily exercise. 4 His life 
is that of the flatterer, but he often expresses himself 
with unexpected freedom. 5 Freedom he esteems 
above all things, 6 and on that account he will not 
belong to any community, either as ruler or as ruled, 
because he will not forfeit freedom at any price. 7 



Chap. 
XIV. 



the sea with the words : &/jLeivov 
ravra 5i* ' Apicrr lttttov t) did ravra 
'Apio-Tnnrov diroAeo-Qai. Diog. 77 ; 
Cic. Invent, ii. 58, 176 ; Auson. 
Idyl. iii. 13 ; Stob. Floril. 57, 13. 

1 In Pint. Tranq. An. 8, Ari- 
stippns has lost an estate, and 
one of his friends expresses sym- 
pathy with him, upon which 
Aristippus replies: Have I not 
now three estates, whilst you 
have only one ? Ought I not 
rather to sympathise with you ? 

2 Hor. Diog. ii. 72 : rd &pio~ra 
vireridero rfj Ovyarpl 'Ap^rr?, <rvv- 
acrKcav avrijv virepoTrriK7]V rod 
irAeiovos eivai. 

3 See further details in Plut. 
Cupid. Div. 3. 

4 Dio. 91 : t))v (T(afjLariKT]v dcncr)- 
aiv crvfjLfZdAAe<rdai irpbs dpei 7?s dvd- 
Ar)\piv. 

5 Several free expressions to- 
wards Dionysius are told by Diog. 
73, 77; Stob. Floril. 49, 22; 
Greg. Naz. Carm. ii. 10, 419, not 
to mention the anecdotes in Diog. 
75. 

6 On the principle mentioned 
by Hor. Ep. i. I, 18 : nunc in 
Aristippi furtim prsecepta rela- 
bor, et mini res, non me rebus 



subjungere conor. Here too the 
saying belongs Plut. in Hes. 9 : 
(Tv/jlBovAov oeladai yjtipov elvai rov 
irpoaairelv. 

7 Xen. Mem. ii. 1, 8. In reply 
to Socrates, who asked whether 
he considered himself among the 
number of those who rule, or 
those who are ruled, Aristippus 
said : eyooy ov5' oAcos ye rdrrco 
e/j.avrbv tls r\\v twv 'apx^w fiovAo- 
fievwv rd\iv. For there is no 
man who is more troubled than 
a statesman : ejxavrbv roivvv rdr- 
rco es robs fiovhofxevovs fj petard 
re Kal rjdicrra fiioreveiv. When 
Socrates met this by observing 
that those who rule are better off 
than those who are ruled, he 
rejoined : cUA' iytio roi ovhe els 
rr]v oovAeiav av ifiavrbv rdrrco • 
aAA' eivai ris fioi 5oK€? fxecrt] rov- 
rcov ofibs, %\v ireipSifxaL fidbiC^eiv, 
ofjre oi f apxns ovre bid SovAeias, 
d\Aa 5i' eAevdeplas, rjirep /maAiara 
irpbs evdaifxoviau dyei. And after 
further objections : aAA' iyoo rot, 
'iva jj}] irdjx 00 favra, oi>5' els iro- 
"Kireiav ejxavrbv KaraKAeioo, aAAa 
levos Travraxcv elfxi. This agrees 
with what Dionysius says in Stob. 
Floril. 49, 22 : If you had learned 



314 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XIV. 



Still less did he allow himself to be held in 
check by religious considerations or traditions ; as 
there seems every reason for asserting both of Ari- 
stippus personally, and of his School in general. 1 
The first, however, who gained notoriety by a wanton 
attack on the popular faith was Theodoras. Whether 
the insipid naturalism of Euemerus was connected 
with the Cyrenaic philosophy or not is somewhat 
problematical. Nor ought it to be forgotten, that the 
endeavours of Aristippus to make life easy were not 
alone of a selfish character, but that they were also ex- 
tended to others. Possessed of pleasing and attractive 
manners, 2 an enemy of vanity and boasting, 3 he could 
comfort with sympathy 4 his friends in sorrow, and bear 
with calmness 5 the inj uries of enemies. He could avoid 



anything from me, you would 
shrink from tyranny as from 
disease ; but it hardly agrees with 
his remark (Ibid. 18) on the dif- 
ference between a monarchy and 
a tyranny. But it is probable 
that at a later time Aristippus 
to a certain extent relaxed his 
objections to public life, since he 
connected himself with a family 
with which he would previously 
have had nothing to do. 

1 It must have been an effect 
of their scepticism, that they fol- 
lowed Protagoras in his attitude 
towards religion, and their prac- 
tical turn led to that freedom 
from religions prejudices, which 
they especially required in the 
wise man. Clement. Strom, vii. 
722, D., says that they rejected 
prayer. 

2 riBicros is the name which 
Greg. Naz. 307, gives him, and 



he commends him for rh ei»xa- 

pl(TTOV TOV TpOTTOV KCU 0"T pWjJLVXoV. 

3 See Arist. Ehet. ii. 23 ; Diog. 
71, 73. 

4 iElian V. H. vii. 3, mentions 
a letter of sympathy addressed to 
some friends, who had met with 
a severe misfortune. He quotes 
the words from the introduction : 
aAA' eywye 7}Kw irphs v/j.as ovx &s 
av\\vTroi>iJ.€i/os vfxti', aW' r Lva iravau) 
v/jicis AvTTOvfjL€vovs. In theory 
Aristippus could only uphold 
friendship because of its utility, 
as Epicurus did at a later time. 
Diog. 91 : rbv <pi\ov rrjs xpdas 
eVe/ca, kcu yap fitpos (rdofiaTos, 
/jL€xpis av irapf}, d(TTTd^€(Tdai. Some- 
thing similar is also found in 
Socrates, and he employs the 
same argument Xen. Mem. i. 2, 
54. 

3 Plut. Prof, in Virt, 9. 



PRACTICAL LIFE OF CYEEKAICS. 315 

strife, 1 mitigate anger. 2 and conciliate an offended Chap. 

. XIV 

friend. 3 A virtuous man steadily pursuing his course _1_1_L_ 

in the midst of vice 4 appeared to him the most 
admirable object ; and that this was really his opinion 
is shown by his reverence for Socrates ; nor is it at 
all improbable 5 that he expressed his appreciation 
for his master by saying, that to Socrates he was 
indebted for being a man, capable of being praised in 
good faith. In a word, with all his love of enjoyment, 
Aristippus appears to have been possessed of high 
feelings and a cultivated mind, to have known how 
to preserve calmness and composure in the midst of 
the perpetual change of human affairs, how to govern 
his passions and inclinations, and how to make the best 
of all the events of life. He may have been wanting 
in the strength of will which can beard destiny, in the 
grave earnestness of a mind intent upon high ends, 
and in strictness of principles ; but he was a proficient 
in the rare art of contentment and moderation, while 
his pleasing manners and the cheerful brightness 
of his disposition attract far more than the super- 
ficial and effeminate character of his moral views 
repel. 6 Nor do these traits simply belong to his per- 

1 Diog. 70; Stob. Ploril. 19, 6. (TTpairrai. 

2 Stob. Floril. 20, 63. 5 Which is told by Diog. 71. 

3 See the adventure with 2Es- Pew of the anecdotes about Ari- 
el") ines in Pint. Coh. Ira 14, Diog. stippus rest on good authority, 
82, which Stob. Plor. 84, 19, but as they all agree in pour- 
probably by mistake, refers to the traying a certain character, they 
brother of Aristippus. hare been used as the material 

4 Stob. Floril. 37, 25: 'Apt- for history. They may be spurious 
(rTnnros ipooTTjOelsTid^Lodav/ixao'rov in parts, but on the whole they 
ecru/ eV tg5 /" ict) ; avQpwiros eViet- give a faithful representation of 
K77S, €i7re, kcl\ /jierpios, otl ip iroX- the man. 

Ao?s vTv6.pxw lAOxdypoh ov 8ie- ti Even Cicero, who is not ge- 



316 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XIV. 



D. Posi- 
tion of 



tern. Its 
relation to 
that of 
Socrates. 
(1) Gene- 
ral relation 
of their 
philosophy. 



sonal character ; they are closely connected with the 
very nature of his system, which requires life to be 
directed by intelligence. Theory and practice mutually 
overlap with him, as they did with Diogenes, and in 
the case of both each may be explained by means of 
the other. 

Both theory and practice with Aristippus are, 
however, far removed from their pattern, Socrates. 
The theory of Socrates insisted on a knowledge of 
conceptions ; that of the Cyrenaics on the plainest 
sensuality. His was an insatiable thirsting for know- 
ledge, an unwearied exercise in analysis ; theirs 
a total renunciation of knowledge, an indifference 
to all theoretical enquiries. His was a scrupulous 
conscientiousness, an unconditional submission to 
moral requirements, an unceasing labour with him- 
self and others ; theirs was a comfortable theory 
of life, never going beyond enjoyment, and treating 
even the means to it with indifference. His were 
self-denial, abstemiousness, moral strictness, patri- 
otism, piety; theirs were luxurious indulgence, 
flexibility, a citizenship of the world which could do 
without a country, and an intellectual religion in 
which the Grods find no place. And yet it cannot be 



nerally his friend, says (Off. i. 41, 
148), that if Socrates and Ari- 
stippus placed themselves in an- 
tagonism with tradition, they 
ought not to be imitated : magnis 
illi et divinis bonis hanc licen- 
tiam assequebantur ; and he also 
gives (N. D. iii. 31, 77) a saying 
of the Stoic Aristo : nocere audi - - 
entibus philosophos iis, qui bene 



dicta male interpretarentur: posse 
enim asotos ex Aristippi, acerbos 
e Zenonis schola exire. The same 
is attributed to Zeno by Ath. xiii. 
566, on the authority of Anti- 
gonus Carystius : those who mis- 
understood him, might become 
vulgar and depraved, KaOdirep ol 
rrjs 'Apto"Tt7r7rou TrapevexdtVTes al- 
pecrecos &(T(tiTOi na\ dpaa&s. 



RELATION OF CYRENAICS TO SOCRATES. 



317 



allowed that Aristippus was only a degenerate pupil 
of Socrates, nor that his teaching had onlybeentouched 
surface-deep by that of his master. Not only was 
he classed with Socrates by the unanimous voice of 
antiquity, which, no doubt, referred moreimmediately 
to his external connection with him ; not only did he 
always call himself a pupil of Socrates and regard 
him with unchanging devotion — a proof which is 
stronger than the former, and shows that he was able 
to appreciate the greatness of his friend ; but his 
philosophy leaves no doubt that the spirit of his 
teacher had been mightily at work in him. The in- 
tellectual convictions and the intellectual aims of 
Socrates he did not share. 1 On the one hand, Socrates 



Chap. 
XIV. 



1 Hermann's remarks (On 
Hitter's Dar. d. Socr. Sys. 26 ; 
Gesch. d. Plat. Phil. 263), in- 
tended to bring out the connec- 
tion between the teaching of Ari- 
stippus and that of Socrates, do 
not appear satisfactory, even when 
supported by the additional ar- 
guments in his G-es. Abh. 233. 
Hermann maintains that Ari- 
stippus only lacked the religious 
and moral feelings of Socrates, 
but that he steadily adhered to 
his logical principles. Socrates 
declared all judgments to be 
relative, and conceptions alone 
to be universally valid ; and 
in the same way he argues, the 
Cyrenaics denied only the uni- 
versal validity of judgments, but 
not that of conceptions, for they 
allowed that all men receive 
from the same things the same 
impressions, and agreed in their 
names. But these names were 
identical with the conceptions of 



Socrates, which by the Cynics and 
Megarians had been reduced to 
empty names and deprived of 
all real substance. There is 
indeed a noticeable advance in 
entirely separating conceptions 
from appearances, and in more 
precisely defining the highest 
good as the first judgment uni- 
versally valid. But in the 
first place it never occurred to 
Socrates to deny the universal 
validity of judgments ; and it is 
as certain that he allowed uni- 
versally valid judgments as that 
he allowed universally valid con- 
ceptions — such, for instance, as 
1 All virtue is knowledge,' ' every 
one pursues the good ; ' and if 
he called some judgments relative 
— such as, ' This is good' — it is no 
less certain that he declared the 
corresponding conceptions — for 
instance, that of the good — to be 
relative. In the next place it is 
equally untrue to say that the 



318 



THE SO CR A TIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XIV. 



(2) Rela- 
tion of 
their moral 
teaching. 



strained every nerve to attain to knowledge ; on the 
other hand, Aristippus denied that knowledge was 
possible. Socrates originated a new mode of attacking 
the problem of knowledge, and a new kind of know- 
ledge ; Aristippus allowed of no knowledge which did 
not serve a practical end. 1 But he was indebted to his 
teacher in a great measure for that critical skill for 
which he deserves credit, 2 and for that unprejudiced 
simplicity which throws a light over his whole conduct. 
The same may be said of his moral teaching and 
conduct. How far in this respect he was below 
Socrates is obvious. But he was nearer to him in 
reality than will be readily believed. Socrates, as we 
have seen, made utility the ground of moral duties. 



Cyrenaics only denied the uni- 
versal validity of judgments but 
not that of conceptions, for they 
declared most emphatically that 
all our notions only express our 
personal feelings. They did not 
even allow that all feel the same 
impressions in the same way : 
if we must understand feelings 
by impressions, this language 
would be as unquestionable as it 
would be unmeaning; but they 
maintained that we cannot know 
whether others have the same 
feelings as ourselves. It is al- 
together untenable that they 
practically admitted the common 
meaning of names the use of 
which they could not of course 
deny ; for they left it an open 
question, whether common im- 
pressions and notions corre- 
sponded to these names. It will 
be seen at once what has be- 
come of the advance which Her- 
mann finds in Aristippus. A 



decided distinction between con- 
ceptions and appearances can 
least of all be attributed to the 
Cyrenaics, seeing that they know 
of nothing but appearances ; and 
it will appear, after what has 
been said, to be equally a mistake 
to say that ' Pleasure is the 
highest good' is the first judg- 
ment universally valid. 

1 We cannot accordingly agree 
with Brandis, who says: Ari- 
stippus appears to have held that 
the impulses to action must be 
found within the sphere of know- 
ledge, and, in investigating what 
can be known, to have arrived at 
a conclusion opposite to that of 
Socrates. See Brandis, Gr. rom. 
Phil. ii. a. 94. 

2 See Xen. Mem. ii. 1 ; iii. 8, 
and the stories told by Diog. ii. 
83, Athen. xi. 508, on the form 
of dialogue observed in his wri- 
tings. 



CYREXA1C MORALS AXD SOCRATES. 319 

And might not Aristippus be convinced that he was Chap. 
not deviating from Socrates, as to the final end in ~ 
view, even if he held a different opinion about the 
subordinate means ? Were there not traits in Ari- 
stippus which are truly Socratic ? — that composure 
with which he rises above circumstances, that in- 
dependence with which he is master of himself and of 
all that happens, that unbroken cheerfulness which 
engenders a friendliness to others, that quiet secu- 
ritv which arises from trusting to the strength of his 
mind ? Knowledge is with him the most powerful 
element in morals. By culture and intelligence he 
would make men as independent of external circum- 
stances as their nature allows of; and he advanced so 
far in this direction that he not unfrequently trenches 
on the ground of the Cynics. 1 His School was also ' 
internally connected with theirs. Both Schools take 
the same view of the problem proposed to philosophy, 
making it consist in practical culture, 2 not in theo- 
retical knowledge. Both neglect logical and physical 
enquiries, and justify their procedure by theories, 
based it is true on different principles, but leading to 
the same sceptical results in the end. Both aim in 
their ethics at the same end — the emancipation of 
man by means of intelligence, and by elevating him 
above the outer w T "orld. The only reason for their 
difference, is that they use the most opposite means 

1 This relationship appears in 2 The standing expression is 

the tradition which attributes the iraitieia, and what they say in 

same utterances at one time to favour of it is much to the same 

Aristippus, at another to Dio- effect. 



320 



THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



Chap. 
XIV. 



(3) Bda- 

tion of 
their poli- 
tical and 
religious 
views. 



(4) Ari- 
stippus 
further 're- 
moved from 
Socrates 
than An- 
tisthenes. 



to bring about this result. The Cynic school follows 
the path of self-denial, the Cyrenaic that of self- 
indulgence; the Cynic dispenses with the outer 
world, the Cyrenaic employs it as a means to virtue. 1 
But as the object of both Schools is one and the 
same, their principles ultimately conduct to the same 
point. The Cynics derive the highest pleasure from 
their self-denial ; Aristippus dispenses with property 
and enjoyment, in order the more thoroughly to 
enjoy them. 2 

For the same reason the Cyrenaics hold an analo- 
gous position towards political life and religious tra- 
ditions. The individual, conscious of his mental 
superiority, withdraws himself from the external 
world. He needs no state, nor does he feel himself 
fettered by the beliefs of his countrymen ; while he 
troubles himself far too little about others to make 
any attempt at construction either within the sphere 
of politics or within that of religion. Thus, together 
with sharp diiferences, there is a family likeness 
between these Schools which betrays their common 
descent from Socrates. 

There can be no doubt that Aristippus deviated far 
more from the original ground of the Socratic teaching 
than did Antisthenes. The utilitarian view of life, 
which with Socrates was only an auxiliary notion in 



1 To make this difference rb SvvaaQai eavrqi 6/j.iAelv, Ari 

clearer, Wendt (Phil, Cyr. 29) stippus, rb dvj/aa-dcu iracri dappouv- 

quotes the opposite statements tws o^lKuv. 

of Antisthenes and Aristippus in -Hegel. Gesch. d. Phil. ii. 

Diog. ii. 68, vi. 6. Antisthenes 127. 
says that to philosophy he owes 



RELATION OF ABISTIPPUS TO S0CRA1ES. 321 

order to justify the practice of morality to the reflect- Chap. 

ing mind, was by Aiistippus raised to be the leading ' 

thought. The knowledge of Socrates was pressed 

into its service, and philosophy became with Ari- 

stippus, as with the Sophists, a means for furthering 

the private obj ects of individuals. Instead of scientific 

knowledge, personal culture was alone aimed at, and 

was made to consist in a knowledge of life and in 

the art of enjoyment. The scanty remarks of Ari- 

stippus on the origin and truth of our impressions, 

borrowed for the most part from Protagoras and 

leading to a result destructive of all knowledge, were 

only intended as helps to moral doctrines. The 

deeper meaning of the Socratic philosophy, if not 

altogether annihilated, was at least subordinated to 

what with Socrates was a bare outwork, and formed in 

fact almost an obstruction to his leading thought. 

Granting that Aristippus was not a false follower of 

Socrates, 1 he was certainly a very one-sided follower, 

or rather he, among all the followers of Socrates, 

was the one who least entered into his master's 

real teaching. 

Side by side with this foreign element, the genuine (?) Th ~ 

Socratic teaching cannot be ignored in the Cyrenaic So c > 

school — uniting as it does both elements in itself, t ^ ax ^ in 9 

° ... m the 

and their very union constituting its peculiarity. One Cyrenaic 

of these elements was their peculiar doctrine of 

pleasure, the other was a limitation of that doctrine 

by following the Socratic line of argument and 

making thought and intelligence the only means by 

As Schleiermacher maintains, Gesch. d. Phil. 87. 
Y 



school. 



322 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. which to arrive at true pleasure. The former, 

"V"TT7 

^ taken by itself, would lead to the supposition that 

the pleasure of sense is the only object in life ; the 
latter, to the strict Socratic doctrine of morals. By 
uniting both elements Aristippus arrived at the 
conviction — displa3 T ed in his whole bearing, and on 
which his personal character is a standing comment — 
that the surest way to happiness is to be found in the 
art of enjoying the pleasures of the moment without 
interrupting the free play of the inner life. Whether 
this is indeed possible, whether the two prominent 
thoughts in his system can be harmonised at all, is a 
question which it would appear never occurred to 
Aristippus. We can only answer it in the negative. 
That free play of the inner life, that philosophic 
independence at which Aristippus aimed, is only 
possible when the impressions of the senses and the 
individual circumstances of life are to such an extent 
overcome that happiness is not made to depend on 
changing events aud impressions. On the other hand, 
when the pleasure of the moment is the highest object, 
it is only possible for happiness to exist in proportion 
to the circumstances which produce pleasant im- 
pressions ; and all unpleasant feelings of necessity 
mar happiness. It is impossible freely to abandon 
the feelings to the enjoyment of what is present, 
without at the same time experiencing disagreeable 
impressions from the other attendant circumstances. 
Generalisation, which alone would render such a 
course possible, is distinctly forbidden by Aristippus, 
who requires the past and the future to be ignored 



LATER CYRENAICS. THEODORUS, S3 

and the present alone to be considered. Thus, apart Chap. 

XIV 
from other defects, his system suffers from an in- ' 

consistency in its fundamental principles, the injurious 

effects of which could not fail to follow very quickly. 

As a matter of fact these effects soon appeared in the 

teaching of Theodoras, Hegesias, and Anniceris, and 

hence the interest which the history of the later Cy- 

renaies possesses. 

About the same time that Epicurus was giving a E. The 

later Cy- 

new form to the philosophy of pleasure, Theodoras, renaks. 

Hep-esias, and Anniceris were advocating view r s within ( a ) J1,:r " 
the Cyrenaic School, which agreed in part with those 
of Epicurus, but were in advance of his doctrine of 
pleasure. Theodoras, on the whole, adhered to the 
principles of Aristippus, and unscrupulously pushed 
them to their most extreme consequences. 1 Since 
the value of an action depends upon its results to the 
doer, he concluded that any and every action might 
under certain circumstances be allowed. Certain 
things were declared to be immoral only as a device 
in order to keep the masses within bounds ; but the 
wise man who has risen superior to this device need 
not, under appropriate circumstances, be afraid of 
committing adultery, theft, and sacrilege. If things 
are intended for use, beautiful women and boys are 
not intended only for ornament. 2 Friendship, it 

1 dpcurvTciTos is the term used the definite and explicit testi- 
of him by Diog. ii. 116; and this mony of Diogenes. It is true 
epithet is fully justified by a that, in Plut. Tranq. Anim. 5, 
passage like that, vi. 97. Theodorus complains that his 

2 Diog. ii. 99. That Theodorus pupils misunderstood him ; a 
uttered this and other similar statement which, if it be true, 
things, cannot be doubted after probably refers to the practical 

y2 



7 HE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 



t HAP. 

XI V. 



seemed to him, might be dispensed with ; for the wise 
man is self-sufficing and needs no friends, and the 
fool can make no use of friends. 1 Devotion to one's 
country he considered ridiculous ; for the wise man is 
a citizen of the world, and will not sacrifice himself and 
his wisdom to benefit fools. 2 The views of his School 
with regard to the Grods and religion were also 
frankly avowed; 3 a point in which he was followed by 



application of his principles. He 
may have led a more moral life 
than Bio (Diog. iy. 53 ; Clement, 
P?edag. 15, A.), and yet have 
expressed the logical consequences 
of the Cyrenaic teaching. But it 
is undoubtedly incorrect to charge 
him, as Epiphanius (Expos. Fid. 
1089, A.) does, with prompting 
to theft, perjury, and robbery. 

1 Diog. 98, and Epiphanius in 
still stronger terms: kyaQbv /novov 
e\ey€ rbu evSaifiovovvTa, (pevyeiv 
de rbv duarvxovvra, kUv tj crocpos' 
kcu alperbv slvcu rbu acppova irAov- 
mov ovra /cat aircidr}. This too 
seems to be rather in the nature of 
a ha sty conclusion, for Theodoras 
makes happiness depend on intel- 
ligence, and not on things without. 

2 Diog. 98, Epiph. 

3 The atheism of Theodoras, 
which, besides bringing down on 
him an indictment at Athens, 
gained for him the standing epi- 
thet adeos (he was called debs 
according to Diog. ii. 86, 100, in 
allusion to a joke of Stilpo's, but 
probably kclt* avri(pacrLv for ade- 
os), will be frequently mentioned. 
In Diog. 97 he says: iju . . . 
iravTa.TTacrij' avaipoov tols irepl Becov 
f>6£as - kcu avrov irepi€Tvx<>h L ev 



jStjSAtw eTr Lyey pa/uL/jLevop irepl Qeaiv 
ovk evKOLTa^povfiTbo . e£ ov cpaai} 
'EiriKovpov Xafiovra ra ir\e?(TTa 
et7T6?z/. The last statement can 
only apply to the general criticism 
of the gods, for Epicurus' peculiar 
views about them were certainly 
not shared by Theodoras. Sext. 
Pyrrh. hi. 218 ; Math. ix. 51, 55, 
mentions him among those who 
deny the existence of the gods, 
with the addition : 8ta rod irepl 
Qecav avvr ay /xaros ra irapa to7s 
r/ EAA.7?(Tt deo\oyov i uei'a ttoikiKws 
avaa-KevdfTas. Cic. ("N". D. i. 1, 
2) says : nullos [Deos] esse om- 
nino Diagoras Melius et Theo- 
doras Cyrenaicus putaverunt. 
Ibid. 23, 63 : Nonne aperte Deo- 
rumnaturam sustulerunt? Ibid. 
42, 117: Omnino Deos esse ne- 
gabant, a statement which Minna 
Eel. Oct, 8, 2, and Lact. Ira Dei, 
9, probably repeat after him. 
Also Plut. Comm. Not. 31, 4, 
says: Even Theodore and those 
who shared his views did not 
declare Ghxl to be corruptible, a\ A' 
ovk iTTLffrevaav cos eo'n tl a<pQap- 
rov. Epiph. (Expos. Fid. 1089) 
also asserts that he denied the 
existence of a God. In the face 
of these agreeing testimonies, the 



LATER CYRENAICS. TEEOBORUS. 



tm 



Bio/ and Euemerus. 2 But the theory of Aristippus 
did not altogether satisfy Theodoras. He owned 
that pleasure and pain do not merely depend on 
ourselves and our inner state, but also in a great 
measure on external circumstances ; and he sought 
such a definition of the highest good as should se- 
cure happiness to the wise man, and make that hap- 
piness exclusively dependent on intelligence. 3 This 
result, he thought, would be reached if happiness 
were made to consist, not in individual pleasures, but 
in a happy state of mind — unhappiness, not in in- 
dividual feelings of annoyance, but in an unhappy 
state of mind ; for feelings are the effects of im- 
pressions from without, but inward states of mind are 
in our own power. 4 Theodoras w r ent on to assert, that 



Chap. 



assertion of Clement (Psedag. 15, 
A.), that Theodoras and others 
had wrongly been called atheists, 
and that they only denied the 
popular Oods, their lives being 
otherwise good, can be of little 
weight. Theodoras no doubt de- 
nied the gods of the people in 
the first place, but it was not his 
intention to distinguish between 
them and the true God. The 
anecdotes in Diog. ii. 101, 116, 
give the impression of insincerity. 

1 Diog. iv. 54 : iroWa 5e /cat 
aQeuiTtpov Trpo<T€<p€p€TO rois 6/ai- 
Aovai rovro Qeodcopeiov aTroXavcas ' 
but in his last illness he was 
overcome with remorse, and had 
recourse to enchantments. 

2 The view of Euemerus about 
the Gods is briefly as follows : 
There are two kinds of Gods — 
heavenly and incorruptible be- 
ings, who are honoured by men as 



Gods, such as the sun, the stars, 
the winds ; and dead men, who 
were raised to the rank of Gods 
for their benefits to mankind. 
Diodore in Eus. Pr. Ev. ii. 2, 52. 
To the latter class of beings Eue- 
merus referred the whole of My- 
thology, and supposed it to be a 
history of princes and princesses, 
Uranus, Cronus, Zeus, Rhea, &c. 
Eor further particulars consult 
Steinhart Allg. Encyclo. Art. 
Euhemerus. 

3 These reasons are not men- 
tioned in so many words, but 
they follow from Theodoras' po- 
sitions about the highest good, 
and also from the stress which, 
according to Diog. 98, he laid on 
the avTapKeia. of the wise man, 
and the difference he made be- 
tween wisdom and folly. 

4 Probably what Cic. (Tusc. iii. 
13, 28 ; 14, 31) quotes as Cyrenaic 



326 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. in themselves pleasure and pain were neither good nor 
_ '_ bad, for goodness consists in cheerfulness and evil in 



imhappiness — the former proceeds from intelligence, 
the latter from folly; and this is the reason why in- 
telligence and justice are to be recommended, whilst 
ignorance and wrong-doing are to be rejected. 1 He 
also occasionally displayed a disregard for life 2 which 
would have done a Cynic credit. He did not there- 
fore altogether renounce the theory of pleasure, but 
changed its import by giving to it a new explanation. 
In the place of individual pleasures, a state of mind 
has been substituted which needs to be independent 
of the mere feelings of enjoyment and pleasure. 
The highest good is made to consist in being superior 
to circumstances, instead of a cheerful resignation to 
the impressions of the moment. 
(b) Hege~ A step in advance was taken by Hegesias, who also 
adhered to the general maxims of Aristippus. With 
him good is identical with pleasure, evil with pain. All 

doctrine belongs to Theodoras, and from the disquiet which the 
It is to the effect that every evil view of these consequences pro- 
does not engender sorrow, but duces, although such actions are 
that only which is unforeseen, and in themselves admissible, 
that precautions can be taken to 2 When he was at the court of 
prevent sorrow by familiarising Lysimachus, he so annoyed him 
ourselves with the thought of by his frankness (Diog. 102 ; Plut. 
future evils. Exil. 16; Philo, Qu. Omn. pr. lib. 
1 Diog. 98: re\os 5' vireKdfi^ave 884, C.) that Lysimachus threat- 
Xapav koX Xvit7]v • tV fxkv en-i ened to crucify him, upon which 
fypovftori, tV 5 1 eVl a(ppo(rvvr) ' Theodoras uttered the celebrated 
ayaQa 5e (pp6i-7]criv kcl\ §iKa\.o(Tvvv,v, saying, that it was indifferent to 
nana 5e ras iuavrias €£e(s, peaa 8e him whether he went to eor- 
7)$ovr)v kolI irovov. That justice ruption in the earth or in the air. 
is reckoned among things which Cic. Tusc. i. 43, 102 ; Valer. 
are good, is not opposed to this. Max. vi. 2, 3 ; Plut. An.Vitios. 3 ; 
It is to be recommended, because Stob. Ploril. 2, 23, attribute 
it protects us from the unpleasant another saying to him on the 
consequences of forbidden actions, same occasion. 



sia 



LATER CYEENAICS. HEGESIAS. 327 

that we do. we do for ourselves alone. If services are Chap. 

XIV 
rendered to others, it is only because advantages are 

expected in return, 1 But when Hegesias endeavoured 
to discover wherein true pleasure was to be found, he 
met with no very consoling answer. Our life, he says, 
is full of trouble : the numerous sufferings of the body 
afflict the soul also, and disturb its peace ; fortune in 
numberless ways crosses our wishes : man cannot 
reckon upon a satisfactory state of mind, in a word, 
upon happiness. 2 Even the practical wisdom, upon 
which Aristippus relied, afforded him no security; 
for if our perceptions, according to the old Cyrenaic 
maxim, do not show us things as they are in them- 
selves, and if we are therefore always obliged to 
act according to probabilities, who can be sure that 
our calculations are always true? 3 And if it is 
impossible to attain happiness, it is surely foolish to 
strive after it. We must be content if we succeed 
in fortifying ourselves against the sufferings of life. 
Freedom from pain, not pleasure, is our goal. 4 But 

1 Diog. ii.93: ol 5e ^Hyrj daubs 2 Diog. 94: tt)v evfiaiixoviav 

Aeyd/xevos vkottovs /j.ev ^x%ov robs oXoos advvarov thai ' rb /xev yap 

avrovs, Tjdovrjv koX ttopw, (jlt)t6 8e awfxa iroXXoov amireTrArjaQaL rradr}- 

%apjy rt elvai fxr)re (piXiav fir)re fxaroov, ttjv Se "tyvxhv Cvinira6€?v rop 

evepyecriav, 8ia rb fj.r) 5i' aura croofxari koI rapdrrtcQai, rrjv Se 

ravra cdpe?a6ai 7] pas avra, aAAa rvxw iroXKa roov tear iXiriSa 

Tita ras xP eLas auras, a>v dirSvrwv KooXveiV oxrre dia ravra avv- 

JU.77S 5 €Ke7va vitapxtw. Ibid. 95 : rov wapKrov rrjv evZaifjioviav elvat. 

ri cro<pbv eavrov evetta isavra 3 Diog. 95 : avrjpovv Sh koX ras 

npd^eiv ' ovdeva yap TjyelaOai roov aIa-0'/j<Te<s ovk aKpifiovcras rrjv iiri- 

&K\o)V i7r(ar)S b%iov avrop • kolv yveaenv, roov r evXoyoos (paivofj.il/ai/ 

yap ra fjAyiGra dotcfj irapd rov irdvra nrpdrreiv. 

KapTTovffdai, ix7] elvai avrdfya oov 4 Diog. 95 : rov ri o*o<pbv ovx 

avrbs iravd&xy. The same, but ovroo irXeovdcreLV iv rfj rwv ayadoov 

less accurately, in Epiph. Exp. Fid. alpia-ei, cos iv rff roov kukwv (pvyrj, 

1089, B. riXos riQe^vov rb fir) iimzovoos £yv 



328 THE SO CR A TIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. how is this goal to be attained in a world so full of 
XIV 
^ trouble and pain? Certainly it can never be attained 

as long as our peace of mind depends upon external 
things and circumstances. Contentment can really 
only be secured when everything which produces 
pleasure or pain is an object of indifference. Both 
pleasure and pain,, as Hegesias observes, depend 
ultimately, not upon things, but upon our attitude 
towards things. Nothing in itself is pleasant or 
unpleasant, and the impression which things make 
upon us varies according to our wants or condition. 1 
Neither riches nor poverty affect the happiness of 
life: the rich have no more enjoyment than the poor. 
Freedom or slavery, high or low rank, honour or 
dishonour, are not conditions of the amount of pleasure 
we may receive. Indeed, life is considered a good by 
the fool alone, but by the wise man as indifferent. 2 
No Stoic or Cynic could more emphatically deprecate 
the value of external things than the pupil of Ari- 
stippus here dos. But with these principles the 
noble and thoroughly Socratic maxim is connected, 
that faults ought not to arouse anger; nor ought 
any human beings to be assailed with hatred, but only 
with instruction, for no one does what is bad inten- 
tionally. 3 Since every one desires what is pleasant, 

/j.r)de 'KvTTTjpoos' % drj TcepiyzvecrdaL to (fjp XvcnreXes, elku, tw 5e 

toTs aSia^op^cracri, 7repi rd KOLr\riKa. (ppovifxco aftidcpopov. 

rr\s 7)$ovr)S. 3 Ibid. : eXeyoy ra afiapriifiara 

1 Diog. 94 : (pvo~ei r ovBev rjdv crvyyvd)fj.r\s Tvyx^v^iv ' °v yap 
t) arises vTreXafifiavou' did 8e eKoura dfxaprdveip, d\\d tivl 
(TTrduLev t) ^eviff/nhv '0 Kopiv robs irdOei Kar^vayKaCfxivov ' kcl\ fify 
p.\v '/jdecrOai robs 5' dri5&s ^X eiv ' /ua^jcetj', fiaWov 5e ju,eTa8i5a£eiz/. 

2 Ibid. 95 : /cat t£ fiev d&povi. 



LATER CYRENAICS. ANNICERIS. 329 

every one desires what is good ; and as the wise man Chap. 

does not allow his peace of mind to depend on things '__ 

external, neither does he allow it to be ruffled by the 
faults of others. 

In this theory we find it expressed, more plainly 
than in that of Theodorus, that the doctrine of pleasure 
is unsatisfactory. It is even expressly allowed that 
there is more sorrow than joy in human life, and 
accordingly absolute indifference to outward im- 
pressions is insisted upon. But what right have we 
to identify pleasure and the good, or pain and evil ? 
The good is, after all, that which is the condition of 
our well-being ; and if indifference rather than plea- 
sure satisfies the condition, indifference and not 
pleasure is the good. The doctrine of pleasure is 
thus transformed into its opposite — a Cynical in- 
dependence of everything external. It is true the 
Cyrenaic school could not avow this as its leading 
thought without surrendering its own position, yet at 
the same time it is distinctly avowed within that school 
that pleasure is not in all cases the highest motive. 
Anniceris, however, maintained that the aim of every / c \ Anni- 
action is the pleasure resulting from it ; and, like the 
older Cyrenaics, he would not hear of a general aim 
of life, nor substitute freedom from pain in the place 
of pleasure. 1 He observed too that by pleasure our 

1 Clement. Strom, ii. 417, B. : opov rr\s rj^oprjs'ETTLKovpou, rovr- 

ol de 'kvviKepeioi kclXov/jlgi/ol . . . 4o~tl tt^u tov aXyovvros irrre^ai- 

tov fxkv oKov fiiov tgAos ovdeu pecriv, aOerovcri vtKpov Kardcracnj/ 

Gbpicr/nti/ov era^av, eKdarys Se airoKaXovvres. This would justify 

irpd^eoos 'ihiov v-ndp^iv re\os, r^v the inaccurate statement in Diog. 

4k rrjs irpd^ccs Trepiyivo/j.4i/7)v ii. 96 : oi B 1 : 'AvviKtpeioi ra yue// 

7)dov7}v f ovtqi oi Kvprjva'CKol tov &\\a KaroL ravra rovrois — the 



ceris. 



330 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. own pleasure could only be understood ; for of the 
' feelings of others, according to the old hypothesis of 

his School, we can know nothing. 1 But pleasure is 
not only caused by enjoyments of the senses, but by 
intercourse with other men and by honourable 
pursuits. 2 Hence, apart from the benefit resulting 
from these relations, Anniceris upheld friendship, 
gratitude, family affection, and patriotism on in- 
dependent grounds. He even went so far as to say 
that the wise man would make sacrifices to secure 
them, and that he would not impair his happiness 
by so doing, even if there remained to him but little 
actual enjoyment. 3 With this he came back to the 
ordinary view of life, to which he approximated still 
further by attaching less value to intelligence — the 
second element in the Cyrenaic doctrine of pleasure. 
In fact, he denied that intelligence alone was suf- 
ficient to make us safe and to raise us above the pre- 
school of Hegesias — and also the pleasure immediately bound up 
assertion that Anniceris was an with it. 

Epicurean. Cicero and Diogenes 3 Diog. 96 : aireXnrov 5e Kal 
likewise affirm that his School (piXiav iv j6i&* Kal x^P lv kcll irpbs 
declared pleasure to be the good, yoveas rifMrju teal v-rrep irarpidos tl 

1 Diog. 96 : ri]V n rod (piXov irpa^eiv. oSep, olcl ravra Kav 
evSaL/jioviav 8i s avrfyv /j.t] slvai bxXrjcreisaj/ade&TaL 6 (rocpbs.ovdev 
aperrjv, jU.7?5e yap aia6r]T7]P rep tjttov evdcu/jLovftcreL, Kav oXiya rjdea 
ireXas virdpxtw- Trepiyevrjrai avrcv. Ibid. 97 '• r6v 

2 Clement continues : x ai P €lv rL ^>^ov /mri 5ia ras xp elas /ulovov 
yap 7)iJ.as firj fxovov enl ?fiovo2s, airodex^crOaL, & v vttoXg lttovg wv jjlti 
aXXa Ka\ iirl bfjuXiais Kal eirl iirnrrpecpecrOaL' aXXa Kal irapa tt)v 
(piXori/jLiais. Comp. Cic. Offi iii. yeyowtav evuoiav ■ t\s ffreica Kal 
33, 116. The expression in irSpovsvirofieveiv, nal roi Tidefievov 
Clement, rfy e/c rrjs 7rpa£ecos irzpL- ri^ovrjvrkXos Kal ax0o/j.€pop iirl red 
yivoiisvriv tjBop^p, probably means crrepeaOai avrris ofxeas eKovcricvs 
not only to the pleasure result- viroixevsip 5ta tt\v irpbs rbp cpixop 
ing from an action, but the trropyrip. 



LATER CYRENAICS. SU31MARY. 331 

judices of the masses. Intelligence needs rather to Chap. 
be strengthened by custom, before it can success- x 
fully lay siege to a perverse use. 1 

Thus the Cyrenaic doctrine is seen gradually to 
vanish away. Aristippus declared that pleasure was 
the only good, understanding by pleasure actual 
enjoyment, and not mere freedom from pain; and, 
moreover, he made the pleasure of the moment, and 
not the state of man as a whole, to be the aim of 
all action. One after another these limitations were 
abandoned. Theodorus denied the last one, Hegesias 
the second, and even the first was assailed by 
Anniceris. It thus appears how impossible it is to 
combine the theory of Socrates, which demands in- 
telligence and independence of the external world, 
with the leading thought of the systems of pleasure. 
The Socratic element disintegrates these systems and 
resolves them into their antagonistic parts. But as 
this process took place without the mind becoming 
conscious of it, it did not lead to the establishment of 
a new system. With strange inconsistency, the very 
men who had been active in bringing about this 
work of disintegration, continued to repeat the old 
doctrines of Aristippus, as if his sj^stem had never 
been modified. 

1 Ibid. 96: /urj elvalre avrdpHt] yevecdai' 5e?z/ 5 s aveBi&vdai Sta 
rbv \6yov Trpb^ rb Oapprjffai ml Ty\v etc ttoWoj (Tvvrpacpt'icro.y ■fytuy 
tt\s t&v iroAhtov do^rjs virepduw (pavAr]v SiaBzcriv. 



332 



THE SOCEATIC SCHOOLS. 



CHAPTEE XV. 



EETEOSPECT. 



Chap. 
XV. 

A. Incon- 
sistencies 
of the im- 
perfect 
Socr a Tic- 
schools. 



Inconsistencies were not confined to any one of the 
Socratic Schools in particular, but appear to have 
been common to them all. It was, without doubt, an 
inconsistency on the part of the Megarians to confine 
knowledge to conceptions, and at the same time to do 
away with all possibility of development, and with 
anything like difference or definiteness in conceptions; 
to declare that being is the good, and, at the same 
time, by denying variety and motion to being, to 
deprive it of that creative power which alone can 
justify such a position ; to begin with the Socratic 
wisdom, and to end in unmeaning hair-splitting. It 
was an inconsistency for Antisthenes to endeavour to 
build all human life on a foundation of knowledge, 
but at the same time to destroy all knowledge by his 
theories of the meaning and connection of conceptions. 
It was no small inconsistency both in himself and his 
followers to aim at a perfect independence of the 
outer world, and yet to attribute an exaggerated 
value to the externals of the Cynical mode of life ; to 
declare war against pleasure and selfishness, and at 
the same time to pronounce the wise man free from 
the most sacred moral duties; to renounce all enjoy- 



SO C RAT I C SCHOOLS RELATED TO SOCRATES. 333 

ments, and to revel in the enjoyment of a moral self- 9^ p * 

exaltation. The unsatisfactory nature of the leading 

thoughts with which these Schools started appears 
in all these inconsistencies, no less than in their 
mutual contradictions. We see how far these thinkers 
were removed from the perfect moderation, from the 
ready susceptibility of mind, from the living flexibil- 
ity of Socrates, and how they all clung to particular 
sides of his personal character, but were unable to 
comprehend it as a whole. 

The same fact will also, no doubt, explain that B. These 
tendency to Sophistry which is discernible in these . more } /'. 
philosophers. The captious subtleties of the Mega- l™ ers °,f 
rians, the indifference of the Cynics to all speculative than of tic 
knowledge, and their contempt for the whole theory ^ ™ ts ' 
of conceptions, no less than the doctrines of Aristippus rians and 
relative to knowledge and pleasure, savour more of ^ mt 
the Sophists than of Socrates. But yet all these 
schools professed to follow Socrates, and there was 
not one of them which did not place some element of 
the Socratic philosophy at the head of its system. It is 
hardly correct then for modern writers to find no- 
thing but sophistical views, supplemented and cor- 
rected by what is Socratic, in the teaching of the 
Socratic Schools, and, instead of deducing their 
differences from the many-sidedness of Socrates, to 
refer them to the diversities of the Sophists converging 
from various sides towards the Socratic philosophy as 
a centre. l With decided admirers of Socrates, such 

1 See Hermann, Ges. Abh. 228. 



334 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. as Antisthenes and Euclid, there can be not even a 
shadow of support for this view. Such men would 



never have professed to aim at a faithful reproduction 
of the life and teaching of their master, unless they 
had been conscious that to Socrates they were indebted 
for first supplying them with an intellectual ground- 
work, and for first giving them the living germ of a 
true philosophy ; — facts which may also be clearly 
observed in their philosophy. In their case it is 
wrong to speak of the ennobling influence of Socrates 
on sophistical principles ; we ought rather to speak 
of a sophistic influence, and a sophistical treatment 
of the teaching of Socrates. Socrates, as it were, 
gave the substance of the teaching, sophistry being 
only a narrower limitation of it; and on this account 
a School like that of the Stoics was able in the end 
to connect itself with that of the Cynics. 

(2) Art- The case is somewhat different with Aristippus. 

stippus. -g u £ we k ave a l reac [y established, not only that he 
professed to be a follower of Socrates, but that he 
really was one, although he penetrated less than any 
one else into the deeper meaning of the founder's 
teaching, and showed the influence of sophistical 
views to an appreciable extent. Previous sophistical 
culture may then be a cause, in addition to their 
lower powers of mind, which prevented the founders 
of the imperfect Schools from entering so deeply or 
so completely into the spirit of their master as Plato 
did; but it should also be remembered that Socrates 
gave occasion to this variety in those Schools which 
were connected with him. On the one hand, his 



IMPORTANCE OF SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 335 

personal character afforded a rich store of thought, Chap. 
calling for investigation in the most opposite direc- ' 



tions ; on the other hand, the scientific form of his 
philosophy was imperfect and unsystematic, and 
hence admitted of many diverging modes of treat- 
ment. l 

The separation of the Socratic Schools was not c - Ln " 

1 jporiance 

without importance for the further advancement of of these 

philosophy. Bringing out the separate elements T^j^ 

which were united in Socrates, and connecting them settled the 

with the corresponding elements in the pre-Soeratic ?for subse- 

philosophy, the various Schools brought their several g^ent 

mi philosophy. 

points into greater prominence. Ihe problems were 

set for all subsequent thinkers to discuss. The 
logical and ethical consequences of the Socratic max- 
ims were brought to li^ht. It was seen w T hat the 
separation of the various sides in the teaching of 
Socrates, or their combination with other assump- 
tions, would lead to, unless these assumptions were 
first brought into harmony with the mind of Socrates. 
In this way the smaller Socratic schools were instru- 
mental in enforcing the demand for a comprehensive 
treatment of the Socratic philosophy, a treatment 
taking all its aspects into consideration both in their 
relations to each other and to earlier systems, and 

1 Cic. cle Orat. iii. 16, 61, familise dissentientes inter se, &c. 
observes with, some justice, but For instance, Plato and Anti- 
somewhat superficially : Cum es- sthenes, qui patientiam et duriti- 
sent plures orti fere a Soerate, am in Socratico sermon e maxim e 
quod ex illius variis et diversis et adamarat, and also Aristippus, 
in omnem partem difrusis dispu- quern iliac rnagis voluptarise dis- 
tationibus alius aliud apprehen- putationes delectarant. 
derat, proseminatse sunt quasi 



336 THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

Chap. deciding the importance of each one relatively to the 
__J rest. Thus these Schools paved the way for Plato 



and Aristotle, Euclid supplying to Plato his theory 

of ideas, Antisthenes and Aristippus his theory of the 

highest good. 

(2) They Of greater importance is the fact that these fol- 

prepared , 

*Ae way for lowers oi oocrates prepared the way for the course 

Aristote ta ^ en by philosophy after the time of Aristotle. It 
Man si/s- is true that the post-Aristotelian systems are not 
immediately connected with the imperfect Socratic 
Schools ; and it is no less true that those systems 
would have been impossible without Plato and Ari- 
stotle, but it must not be forgotten that they are 
also greatly indebted to the Socratic Schools. The 
predominance of practical over intellectual interests 
which the post-Aristotelian philosophy displays, the 
moral contentment with which the wise man withdraws 
from everything external, and falls back upon the 
freedom and virtue of his inner life, the citizenship of 
the world which can dispense with a country and 
political interest — all these peculiarities of later times 
are foreshadowed in the lesser Socratic Schools. The 
Stoa took to itself all the moral principles of the 
Cynics, softening down their austerity and expanding 
their application. The same School, besides follow- 
ing Aristotle, connects its logic chiefly with the 
Megarians. The scepticism of Pyrrho and the Aca- 
demy was another product of the Megarian logic, al- 
though it followed a somewhat different direction. 
The doctrine of Aristippus reappears in Epicurus, 
but altered in details. In short, tendencies, which at 



IMPORTANCE OF SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 337 

an earlier period were only able to secure a qualified Chap. 
recognition, became dominant when th.ey had been '_ 



strengthened, altered, and supplemented by other 
elements. 

But this was not possible until the intellectual (3) They 
strength of Greece had abated, and her political con- ™fo es if ^' 
dition had become hopeless, by which currency was harmony 
given to the view that indifference to everything ex- 5 ™># of 
ternal could alone lead to peace of mind. At first the the a 9 e - 
intellectual interest was too vivid, and the Greek 
spirit was too keen, to suffer in this way from the 
results brought about by the Socratic philosophy; 
but, owing to its deeper foundations, that philosophy 
could not fail to lead to a science of conceptions such 
as was put forth by Plato and Aristotle. 

Metaphysics so abstract, and subtleties so empty 
as the Megarian, could only then be possible ; morals 
so unintellectual and absolutely negative as those of 
the Cynics could only then be tolerated ; a doctrine 
like that of Aristippus could only then claim to be 
Socratic, when the various but inwardly connected 
elements of the Socratic teaching were taken sepa- 
rately, and when, owing to a formal imperfection in 
expressing his thoughts, the defects of the method 
of Socrates were mistaken for defects in the matter 
of his teaching. Undoubtedly the imperfect Socratic 
Schools are not without importance for the history of 
Greek philosophy, but the value of their intellectual 
productions cannot be rated very highly. 

To take a deeper insight into the Socratic philoso- 
phy, and to discuss that philosophy in a more compre- 
hensive manner, was a task reserved for Plato. 

z 



INDEX. 



Academicians, 229. 

Academy, older, 46 ; new, 4. 

Accusation, the, of Socrates, 161. 

iEschines, 68 ; assigns the reason 
for the condemnation of Socrates, 
178 ; a disciple of Socrates, 208 ; 
his prose preferred by some to 
that of Xenophon, 209. 

JEschylus, illustrating the state of 
thought in the fifth century, B.C., 5. 

iEthiops, a pupil of the elder Ari- 
stippus, 291. 

Agatho, the delicate neatness of, 18. 

Alcibiades, compares Socrates to 
Silenus, 71 ; allows that the dis- 
courses of Socrates seem rude, 72 ; 
bears witness to the fascination of 
Socrates, 152, 153 ; his connection 
with Socrates, 174, 181, 186, 188. 

Alexinus, a native of Elis, notorious 
for his captiousness, 216 ; two 
arguments of his known, 228 ; 
attacked by Menedemus the Ere- 
trian, 240. 

Anaxagoras, his teaching referred to 
by Euripides, 17 ; proves that 
spirit alone can make a world out 
of matter, 38 ; falsely said to have 
been a teacher of Socrates, 53 ; his 
theories extravagant according to 
Socrates, 113 ; his view of God as 
the Reason of the world, 145 ; his 
atheism charged on Socrates, 187. 

Ancient morality, relation of Socrates 
to, 192. 



Anniceris, a Cyrenaic, pupil of An- 
tipater, 292,* 325, 329, 331. 

Antipater, a Cyrenaic, pupil of the 
elder Aristippus, 291 ; Hegesias 
and Anniceris his pupils, 292. 

Antisthenes, theory of, dangerous to 
the popular faith, 195 ; founder of 
a Socratic School, the Cynic, 210, 
242 ; a native of Athens, 242 ; 
rejects every combination of sub- 
ject and predicate, 235 ; holds 
that the One alone exists, 237 ; 
the teacher of Diogenes, 244 ; his 
character, 247 ; expresses himself 
in favour of culture, 249, n. 4 ; 
his nominalistic theory, 251 ; pre- 
fers madness to pleasure, 269 ; 
how led to his views, 261 ; allows 
that some kinds of pleasure are 
good, 262 ; makes virtue consist 
in knowledge, 264, 265 ; considers 
marriage unnecessary, 272 ; cen- 
sures popular government, 274 ; 
doubts popular faith, 278 ; as- 
sails mysteries, 280 ; makes hap- 
piness the end of philosophy, 295 ; 
deviates from teaching of Socrates, 
320; inconsistencies of, 332. 

Anytus, the accuser of Socrates, 162 ; 
his dislike for Socrates, 170; 
based on some supposed personal 
injury, 172, 173, 174; a leading 
democrat, 178 ; a violent opponent 
of the Sophists, 185 ; professes to 
uphold ancient morality, 197. 



z 2 



340 



INDEX. 



Apathy, highest good placed in, by 
Stilpo, 236. 

Apollonius of Cyrene, surnamed 
Cronos, 214. 

Apology, the, sifting of men de- 
scribed in, 104 ; cautions language 
of, on a future life, 148; moral 
considerations dwelt on by Socra- 
tes in his, 153 ; proves that popu- 
lar opinion about Socrates agreed 
with the picture drawn by Aristo- 
phanes, 182; Xenophon's, 172. 

Archelaus, teaches that the spirit 
returns to the ether, 17 ; falsely 
said to have been a teacher of 
Socrates, 53. 

Archipylus, an Elean philosopher, 
238. 

Arete, daughter of the elder Ari- 
stippus, 291. 

Arginusae, state of public feeling 
after battle of, 174: Socrates 
hazarded his life to save the vic- 
tors at, 191. 

Aristides, the time of, 197 ; supposed 
relationship of, to Socrates, 57, n. 

Aristippus, connection of his teach- 
ing to that of Socrates, 129 ; foun- 
der of a Socratic School, the Cyre- 
naic, 210, 287 ; independent in 
character, 289 ; his pupils, 291 ; 
the Oyrenaic doctrine his, 293 ; 
studied Ethics exclusively, 294 ; 
thinks happiness the end of philo- 
sophy, 295, 321, 330; considers 
enjoyment an end in itself, 295, 
322 ; development of his leading 
thought, 296 ; considers feeling 
produced by internal motion, 300 ; 
conduct and views of, 308 ; a free- 
thinker, 314; greatly indebted 
to Socrates, 315 : not a degenerate 
pupil of Socrates, 316, 321 ; has 
many Socratic traits, 319; dis- 
penses with property and enjoy- 
ment, 320 ; deviates further from 
Socrates than Antisthenes, 320 ; 
his scanty remarks on the origin 
of impressions, 321 ; his principles 



adhered to by Theodorus, 325 ; 
but not altogether, 325. 

Aristippus the younger, grandson 
of the elder Aristippus, 291 ; his 
pupils, 291. 

Aristophanes, illustrating the prob- 
lem of philosophy, 26 ; denounced 
innovators, 93, 185 ; his play of the 
' Clouds ' supposed to have been 
suggested by Anytus, 170, 173 
[see Clouds] ; considered Socrates 
a dangerous teacher, 174 ; opposes 
him on patriotic grounds, 175 ; 
charges Socrates with Sophistic 
display, 187. 

Aristotelian distinction between phi- 
losophy and convention, 266. 

Aristotle, his physical discussions, 41 ; 
subordinate to metaphysics, 36 ; ex- 
pands the constructive criticism of 
Socrates, 37, 45, 107 ; adheres to 
Idealism, 38, 39 ; his criticism of 
Plato's Ideas, 44 ; his ethical views, 
42 ; his scanty notices of Socratic 
philosophy, 85 ; agree with those of 
Plato, 150, 151, and supplement, 
those of Xenophon, 152 ; his view 
of the chief merit of Socrates, 110 : 
attacked by Eubulides, 213 ; de- 
nies that any propositions are 
false, 256. 

Aristotle of Cyrene, a contemporary 
of Theodore, 292. 

Aristoxenus, testimony of, to the cha- 
racter of Socrates, 63. 

Asceticism of Neoplatonists, 42 ; of 
Antisthenes, 261; of post-Aristo- 
telians, 41. 

Asclepiades removes Elean School to 
Eretria, 238. 

Asiatic, the State of Xenophon an 
A. kingdom, 208. 

Aspasia, 135. 

Athenian polish, 66, 72 ; democracy, 
137, 162, 190. 

Athenians, 165, 178, 194; guilt of, 
199, 200; repentance of, 168. 

Athens, a centre of union in Greece, 
34 ; advantages of a citizen of, 



INDEX. 



341 



50 ; intellectual movement going 
on at, 51, 152; the abode of 
.Socrates, 161, 196 ; state of pub- 
lic opinion, 200 ; political intrigues 
of, 59 ; not governed by Sophists, 
171; fall of, 184; old constitution 
re-established by enemies of So- 
phists, 185 ; ancient glory of, 186 ; 
Gods of, 180; Aristippus led to 
Athens, 287. 

Attic prose, models of, 208 ; philo- 
sophy, 4. 

Authorities for the philosophy of 
Socrates, 82, 86, 150, 153; for 
Megarian philosophy, 212, n. 1. 



Bacchylides illustrating the problem 

of philosophy, 19. 
Being and Becoming, Megarian view 

of, 219. 
Bio, the Borvsthenite, a Cyrenaic, 

pupil of Theodore, 292, 324. 
Brucker, 83. 
Bryso, son of Stilpo, 217. 



Oaptiousness [see Eristic]. 

Cato's view of the condemnation of 
Socrates, 171. 

Cebes, 209. 

Character of Socrates, greatness of, 
63 ; peculiar features in, 69 ; Gre- 
cian peculiarities in, 66. 

Characteristics of the Socratic phi- 
losophy, 82-98. 

Charges, unfounded, against Socrates, 
187 ; charges against his political 
views, 1 80 ; against his moral and 
religious views, 181. 

Charmides, a disciple of Socrates, 
178. 

Chronology of the life of Socrates, 
49, n. 1. 

Chrysippus, blames Menedemus and 
Stilpo for plausible fallacies, 240. 

Civil life, renunciation of, by Cynics, 
274. 

Cleon, 177. 



Clinomachus, 214. 

'Clouds,' the, of Aristophanes, sugges- 
ted by Anytus, 170, 173 ; attack 
Socrates as a Sophist, 177, 182 ; 
scope of, 181 ; portrait in, 182, 56, 
n. 1. 

Comedians, illustrating the problem 
of philosophy, 26. 

Conceptions, theory of, characteristic 
of the Socratic Era, 36, 89 ; de- 
fined, 37; common to Plato and 
Aristotle, 38 ; developed, 43 ; for- 
mation of, 106; proof by, 106, 
110; rejected by Euclid, 221; 
developed to Nominalism by Cy- 
nics, 251. 

Condemnation of Socrates, 166 ; 
causes of, 169-186 ; not the work 
of the Sophists, 169; partially 
due to personal animosity, 172 ; 
partially due to political parties, 
174; real causes of, 180; justice 
of, 186. 

Contemporaries, relation of Socrates 
to, 197. 

Contradiction, the possibility of, 
denied by the Cynics, 255. 

Conviction, personal, insisted on by 
Socrates, 193. 

Corybantic mysteries, 30. 

Crates, a pupil of Diogenes, 24o ; 
speaks approvingly of culture, 249, 
n. 6 ; displays art, 284. 

Critias, didactic pretensions of, 18; 
fascinated by the wisdom of So- 
crates, 152; a pupil of Socrates, 
178, 181, 186, 188 ; the most un- 
scrupulous of the oligarchs, 178. 

< Crito,' the, of Plato, 140. 

Custom the practical criterion of 
virtue, 124 ; distinction between 
custom and philosophy, 266. 

Cynicism, traces of, in Stilpo' s moral 
teaching, 235, 236. 

Cynics, 242-286 ; history of, 242-6 ; 
teaching of, 247-256 ; moralitv 
of, 129, 236, 256-266 : practise of, 
267-280; influence on the world, 
281-286 ; depreciate theoretical 



342 



INDEX. 



knowledge, 247 ; with limitations, 
249 : nominalism of, 251 ; declare 
contradiction impossible, 255 ; ne- 
gative side of morality, 261 ; posi- 
tive side, 263 ; good and evil, 256 ; 
.virtue, 263 ; wisdom and folly, 
266 ; renunciation of self, 268, 
308, 320 ; renunciation of society, 
272, 329 ; the family, 272 ; civil 
life, 274 ; modesty. 276 ; rejection 
of religion, 236, 278 ; their views 
combined with those of Megarians 
by Stilpo, 235, 237 ; said to have 
studied Ethics exclusively, 294. 

Cynic School, 46, 131, 211; follows 
the path of self-denial, 320. 

Cyrenaics, 287-331 ; history of, 
287-292 ; teaching of, 293-307 ; 
practical life of , 308-315 ; position 
of their system, 316-322 ; relation 
of their philosophy to Socrates, 
316, 321 ; of their moral teaching, 
318 ; of their political views, 320 ; 
later, 323-331 ; general position 
of, 294 ; view of happiness, 41, 
295 ; importance attached to feel- 
ings, 296, 316; doctrine of plea- 
sure, 129, 300 ; the highest good, 
302 ; modified view of, 304 ; con- 
sider all notions relative, 298; 
assumed a sceptical attitude to- 
wards knowledge, 299, 300 ; deny 
that any pleasures are bad in 
themselves, 304 ; admit degrees 
of pleasure, 304 ; happiness not 
the satisfaction of animal instincts, 
307 : philosophy how connected 
with Euemerus, 314; employ outer 
world for their own ends, 320. 

Cyrenaie School, 46, 211 ; separate 
branches of, 292 ; views advocated 
within, 323. 

Cyropaedeia,' the, of Xenophon, 207. 

Cyrus, expressions of the dying, 
148, 207 ; intimacy of Xenophon 
with, 179. 

Daemonium of Socrates, 73 ; false 
views of, 73 ; Schleiermacher's 



view, 75" ; not the same as con- 
science, 77 ; not a general mission, 
78 ; said to be substituted for 
God, 187 ; its position in relation 
to the popular belief, 195. 

Death of Socrates, 167, 168 ; results 
of, 201. 

Death, Socrates' view of, 148. 

Defence of Socrates, 164, 165. 

Delos, state embassy to, delays the 
execution of Socrates, 167- 

Delphic oracle confirms Socrates in 
his course of life, 55 and n. 2 ; 
100, n. 3: 101, n. 1 ; God, 89. 

Demetrius Poliorcetes, 236. 

Demosthenes, a pupil of Eubulides. 
214. 

Depreciation of knowledge by Cynics, 
247 ; limits to, 249. 

Destruction, views of Diodorus on, 
231. 

Details of the trial of Socrates, 
164-168. 

Dialectic, a criticism of what is, 111; 
the foundation of Plato's system, 
36 [see Conceptions]. 

Dialectical tendency supreme in 
Socrates, 35. 

Didactic poetry illustrating philo- 
sophy in fifth century, B.C., 18. 

Diociides, 214. 

Diodorus, eaptiousness of, 229 ; views 
on Motion, 229 ; on Destruction, 
231 ; on the Possible, 232; sur- 
named Cronos, 214 ; teacher of 
Philo, 233. 

Diogenes, initiates Stilpo into Cynic 
doctrine, 215; a native of Sinope 
and pupil of Antisthenes, 244 ; 
uses expressions in favour of cul- 
ture, 249, n. 5 ; recommends jus- 
tice, 262 ; his asceticism, 270, 
271 ; averse to marriage, 272 ; 
allows marriage of relations, 274, 
280 ; Plato's view of, 281 ; theory 
and practice overlap with, 316. 

Diogenes, testimony of, to line of 
argument pursued in Euclid's time, 
225. 



INDEX, 



34a 



Dissen, 84, 

Droysen, view of Aristophanes, 177. 



Education of Socrates, 51, n. 2, 3 ; 
52. n. 4 ; 53, n. 1 ; 54, n. 1. 

Elean-Eretrian School, 237-241 ; his- 
tory of, 237 ; teaching of, 239. 

Eleatic doctrine of the One and All, 
211, 212, 225 ; difference between 
sensual and rational knowledge, 
220. 

Eleaties, subtleties of, 217; doc- 
trines of, 242. 

Epicharmus, 19. 

Epicurean view of happiness, 41. 

Epicureans, on the attainment of 
knowledge, 40 ; make personal 
conviction the standard of truth, 
95. 

Epicurus, 63 ; placed the highest 
good in freedom from pain, 302 ; 
gave a new form to the philosophy 
of pleasure, 323 ; doctrine of 
Aristippus reappears in, 336. 

Eristic. Megarian, 225 ; that of 
Euclid, 226; of Eubulides, 228; 
of Alexinus, 228 ; of Diodorus, 
229 ; of Philo, 233 ; of Stilpo, 234. 

Eros, a passionate attachment ground- 
ed on aesthetic feeling, 69 ; de- 
scribed, 103-105; 134. 

Eretrians, 241. 

Ethics, the substance of the teaching 
of Socrates, 112-128, 142, 205 
[see Morals] ; exclusively studied 
by Aristippus, 294. 

Eubulides, captiousness of, 227 ; 
writes against Aristotle, 213 ; the 
teacher of Demosthenes, 214. 

Euclid, fascinated by the attractions 
of Socrates, 152; founder of a 
Socratic School, the Megarian, 
210, 212; makes use of Eleatic 
doctrines, 213, 219 ; a counter- 
part to Plato, 220 ; rejects the 
Platonic Ideas, 221 ; denies that 
capacity exists beyond the time 
of exercise, 222 ; substitutes the 



Good for the One of Parmenides. 
225 ; rejects explanation by ana- 
logy, 226 ; denies motion, 231 : 
makes virtue consist in Intelli- 
gence, 264, 

Eudsemonism of Socrates, 128, 

Euemerism, 23, 

Euemerus, the Greek rationalist, a 
pupil of Theodore, 292, 324 ; con- 
nection with Cyrenaics proble- 
matical, 314. 

Euphantus, a pupil of Eubulides,214. 

Euripides illustrating the state of 
thought in the fifth century, B.C., 
12 ; sceptical verses of, 198. 

Euthydemus, his view of injustice, 
103 ; his doubts, 157. 



Family, renunciation of, by Cynics. 

272. 
Eichte, idealism of, not the idealism 

of Plato, 39. 
Freret, view of the condemnation of 

Socrates, 170, 171. 
Friars, resemblance of, to Cynics, 

285. 
Friendship, 132-134 [see Eros]. 
'Frogs,' 182. 



God, the oneness of, recognised by 
Socrates, 144 ; conceived as the 
Reason of the world by Socrates. 
145; forethought of, 146; iden- 
tified with the Good by Euclid, 
223. 

Gods, Socrates charged with rejecting 
the, of his country, 181; Cynic 
views of, 279. 

Good, the object of knowledge, 123 ; 
practically determined by custom 
and utility according to Socrates, 
124 ; Megarian doctrine of, 222 ; 
placed in apathy by Stilpo, 236 ; 
identified with God by Euclid, 
223 ; Cynic doctrine of Good and 
Evil, 256 ; Cyrenaic view of the 
highest Good, 302. 



344 



INDEX. 



G-orgias, doubts of, 157, 217 ; so- 
phistry of,^211 ; criticism of, 225 ; 
a teacher of Antisthenes, 243, 251, 
278. 

Grecian peculiarities in the teaching 
of Socrates, 66, 272. 

Greece, change in inner life of, 153 ; 
moral life of, 192 ; attention of, 
directed to logical criticism, 225. 

Greek, mode of, thought, 155, 199 ; 
morality, 193, 198; states small, 
164 ; faith, 195. 

Grote, view of Socrates and the 
Sophists, 156, 157, 159. 



Hegel, view of the relation of Socra- 
tes to the Sophists, 156, 159 ; con- 
siders attitude of Socrates opposed 
to old Greek morality, 192. 

Hegesias, a Cyrenaic, pupil of Anti- 
pater, 292, 323 ; adheres to the 
maxims of Aristippus, 326 ; con- 
siders life full of trouble, 327, 331. 

Heraclitus, doctrines of, conveyed to 
Sicily by Sophists, 4 ; idea of 
God, 145; early scepticism of, 
211 ; view of the phenomenal 
world, 220 ; his doctrine of the 
perpetual flux of things, 299. 

Hercules, patron saint of the Cynics, 
260. 

Hermse, mutilation of, 174, 180. 

Herodotus, exemplifying the state of 
culture in Greece in fifth century. 
b.c, 22. 

Hesiod, verses of, quoted by Socrates, 
188. 

Hipparchia a Cynic, wife of Crates, 
246. 

Hipparchus brought to a knowledge 
of his duties by Socrates, 71. 

Historians, illustrating the problem 
of philosophy in the fifth century, 
B.C., 22. 

Homer, verses of, quoted by Socrates, 
179; explained by Antisthenes, 
280. 

Horned, the, fallacy, 229. 



Hypothetical Sentences, view of Philo 
on, 233. 



Ichtl^as, the successor of Euclid, 213, 

Ideal, Socrates not an insipid, of 
virtue, Q6, 169. 

Idealism of Plato, 43, 44 ; the 
logical result of Socratic philo- 
sophy, 38. 

Idealist, Aristotle an, 39. 

Ignorance, consciousness of, the first 
result of self-knowledge, 100. 

Immortality of the Soul, Socrates' 
view of, 147. 

Importance of Socratic teaching, 154. 

Individual independence insisted on 
by Socrates, 130: by Cynics and 
Stoics, 131. 

Induction necessary to form concep- 
tions, 109. 

Influence of Socrates explained, 155. 

Irony of Socrates, 105. 



Justice of the condemnation of So- 
crates considered, 180. 
Justinian closes School of Athens, 4. 



Kant proves immortality of soul by 
utilitarian argument, 129 ; resem- 
bles Socrates in position, 116, n. 1. 

Knowledge, virtue consists in, accord- 
ing to Socrates, 118; depreciated 
by Cynics, 247 ; Socratic search 
for true, 103 ; 88, n. 2 ; 89, n. 1. 

Knowledge of Self, the Socratic, 100. 

Kvpievwv, the fallacy called, 232. 



Leonidas, 69. 
Life of Socrates, 48-62, 
Literature, the problem of philoso- 
phy solved by, 5. 
Love for enemies, 139. 
Lyco, the accuser of Socrates, 162. 
Lycurgus, 196. 
fxaievTiKT} rexvy of Socrates, 104. 



INDEX. 



345 



Man, Socrates' view of the dignity 

of, 147. 

Marathon, stern race fought at, 8, 

196 ; the remembrance of, inspires 

Aristophanes, 26. 

Meaning of words, Philo's view of,233. 

Means, relation of, to ends in nature, 

141. 
Megara, capture of, 236 ; Idealism 

of School of, 38. 
Megarian School, an imperfect ex- 
pansion of Socratic principle, 46, 
212-237,242; history of, 212-216; 
doctrine of, 219 ; approximated to 
Cynicism, 237 ; merged in Cyni- 
cism, 241. 
Megarians, go back to Eleatic doc- 
trine, 211 ; captious logic of, 129, 
225-237; teaching of, 217-237; 
their views of Being and Becom- 
ing, 219; of the Good, 222; later, 
indebted to Cynics, 235, 237 : 
inconsistencies of, 332. 

Meiner's view of sources of Socratic 
authority, 83. 

Meletus, the accuser of Socrates, 
161, 172, 173; said to have sug- 
gested the' Clouds' toAristophanes, 
170; hesitates to accuse Socrates 
of Sophistry, 188 ; a defender of 
ancient morality, 197. 

' Memorabilia,' the, of Xenophon, 71, 
68, 83, 85, 136, 152. 

Menedemus, attempts of Alexinus 
to entangle, in fallacies, 229 ; 
removes Elean School to Eretria, 
238 : directs attention to moral 
questions, 239. 

Menedemus, a later Cynic, 247 

Menippus, a later Cynic, 247. 

Meno's question whether virtue is 
obtained by exercise or instruction, 
266. 

Method of Socrates, 92-111. 

Metrocles, brother of Hipparchia, a 
Cynic, 246. 

Military service of Socrates, 60, n. 4. 

Miltiades, time of, 197. 

'Mirror', the, of Cebes, 210. 



Moderation, the, of Socrates, 67, 1 30. 

Modesty, suppressed by Cynics, 276. 

Monimus, a Cynic, expresses himself 
in favour of culture, 249, n. 7. 

Moral importance of theory of con- 
ceptions, 92 ; particular moral rela- 
tions discussed by Socrates, 130. 

Morality, practically determined, ac- 
cording to Socrates, by custom and 
utility, 124; superficially treated 
by Socrates, 126 ; relation of So- 
crates to older morality, 192 ; re- 
lation of Socrates to co temporary 
morality, 197- 

Morals of the Cynics, 256. 

Moschus, an Elean philosopher, 238. 

Motion, view of Diodorus on, 229. 

Mvrto,the supposed wife of Socrates, 
57, 4. 



Nature, view of, held by Socrates, 
141-144; studied by pre-Socratic 
philosophers, 35, 42. 

Negative side of Cynic teaching, 261 . 

Neoplatonism the coping-stone of 
Creek philosophy, 47. 

Neoplatonists, resort to higher reve- 
lations, 41 ; their asceticism, 42 ; 
later philosophers, 87. 

Neopythagoreans, 31. 

New Academy, time of, 4. 

Nicias, superstition of, 25. 

Nominalism of Cynics, 251, 254. 

Olympus, inhabitants of, derided,! 98. 
Orphic mysteries, 17, 30. 

Pansetius, rejected waitings of Sim- 
mias and Cebes, 210. 

Parmenides, supposed relations of 
Socrates to, 54 ; reduced action 
and passion to the sphere of the 
Becoming, 221 ; discovered a con- 
tradiction in the Becoming, 222 ; 
attributes assigned by him to real 
being, 223 ; proved his position 
directly, 225. 



346 



INDEX. 



Party. Socrates not the victim of a 
political, 177. 

Pasicles, a Megarian, younger than 
Eubulides, 214. 

Peloponnesian "War, Tlmcydides' 
history of, 24, 25 ; increasing 
spread of mysteries about time 
of, 29 ; views of Socrates fixed 
about time of, 56: fall of Athens 
in, 184; period after, 197. 

Pericles, art in the time of, 3, 8 ; 
spirit of the age of, 25, 50. 

Peripatetic School, 46, 63. 

Persian War, achievements of, 3 ; 
Socrates born in last years of, 
49. 

Persians, battles with, 5. 

Phaedo, the founder of a Socratic 
School, the Elean Eretrian, 210, 
237 ; a native of Elis, 237 ; the 
favourite of Socrates, 238 ; his 
opinions, 239. 

' Phasdrus,' the, 71. 

Philistine, Socrates might almost be 
called a, 70. 

Philo, a Megarian and pupil of 
Diodorus, 217, 233 ; his captious- 
ness, 233. 

Philolaus. Simmias and Cebes pu- 
pils of, 209. 

Philosophical views of Socrates. 86. 

Philosophy, problem proposed to, in 
5th century, B.C., 2 ; problem solv- 
ed by politics, art, and religion, 
2-29 ; progress of, in 5th century, 
B.C., 32-47. 

Phvsical Science not dispensed with 
by Plato, 41. 

Physics, ethics substituted for, by 
post- Aristotelian philosophy, 39. 

Pindar, illustrating the problem of 
philosophy, 19. 

Plato, Writings of, 82 ; his dialogues, 
84, 152 ; the most historical of 
his Dialogues, 139; his 'Apology,' 
148, 182. 

— , His portrait of Socrates, 83 ; 
calls Socrates the wisest and best 
of men, 65 ; praises his social 



virtues, 66 ; describes him as a 
perfect thinker, 86 ; speaks of his 
peculiar moderation, 67 ; his use 
of the term Eros, 68 ; his singu- 
larity, 70 ; his outward appear- 
ance, 71 ; the apparent shallow- 
ness of his discourses, 72 ; speaks 
of the Baifx6uiuj/ of Socrates, 74, 
75, 77, 79 ; speaks of Socrates' 
attitude towards natural science, 
113 ; veils the shallowness of So- 
crates' theory of virtue, 126; 
mentions what told most against 
Socrates at the trial, 174, 184; 
associates Socrates with Aristo- 
phanes, 177, 183; his language 
about Anytus, 170, 172, 173; 
value of Plato's testimony con- 
sidered, 83, 85 ; his agreement 
with Xenophon, 85, 127, 140. 
151, 159; with Aristotle, 115. 

— , Philosophy of, considered So- 
crates a deep thinker, 87 ; his 
system the fruit of Socrates, 116. 
155; but more developed, 37, 
118; influenced by imperfect 
Socratic Schools, 46, 47 ; dialectic, 
the foundation of his system, 
36 ; his idealism, 38, 43, 44 ; ad- 
vance from sensible beauty to 
moral beauty, 42 ; essential con- 
ceptions found in all things, 111 ; 
his teaching concerning the state, 
41, 138 ; his physical inquiries, 
41 ; difference between him and 
Aristotle, 45 ; his description 
of Simmias and Cebes, 209 ; 
throws light on Megarian teach- 
ing, 217 ; speaks of Cynic defi- 
nition of knowledge as tautolo- 
gical, 265 ; his view of Diogenes, 
282. 

Platonic distinction between cus- 
tom and philosophy, 266. 

Platonist, Menedemus said to have 
been a, 240. 

Plistanus, an Elean philosopher, 
successor to Phsedo, 238. 

Political unsettledness of Greece, 2. 



INDEX. 



347 



Politics, little importance attached 
to, by Socrates. 194. 

Polyeuetus, said to have taken part 
in accusing Socrates, 162, n. 2. 

Possible, the, view of Diodorus on, 
232; view'of Philo. 233. 

Post- Aristotelian philosophy, sub- 
stitutes Ethics for Physics, 39; 
one-sidedness of Schools, -43 ; ex- 
treme individualism of, 95. 

Practical results of Cynic teaching, 
267. 

Predicate, combination of subject 
and, rejected by Stilpo, 235. 

Pre-Socratic philosophy resting on 
tradition, 34 ; a study of nature, 
35, 42. 

Protagoras, doubts of, 16, 157, 211 ; 
makes man the measure of all 
things, 95 ; considers all notions 
relative, 298 ; considers feelings 
the result of internal motion, 300, 
321. 

Providence, belief in natural, 143. 

Providential care of God, 146. 

Prytaneum, Athens the, of the wis- 
dom of Greece. 4 ; Socrates de- 
served to be publicly entertained 
in the, 167. 

Pvrrho, his philosophy of doubt, 
217,336. 

Pythagorean traditions, 17; associ- 
ation, 133. 



Eealism. knowledge of conceptions 

expanded by Plato into, 254. 
Reason, God conceived as the, of the 

world, 145, 223 ; the only thing 

which gives a. value to life, 264. 
Reisig, his view of the character of 

Socrates. 182. 
Religion, the position of Socrates 

subversive of, 195 ; denied by the 

Cynics, 278, 
Romance, Prench and German, 

wanting in moral foundation, 175. 
Scepticism, 21. 



Sceptics, despair of knowledge, 41 ; 
indifference of, 42 ; resolve truth 
into probability, 95. 

Schleiermacher, his view of the 8cu- 
fioviov, 75 ; protests against the 
preference shown for Xenophon, 
his criterion for a true view of 
Socrates, 84 ; his objections to 
Xenophon as a sole authority, 
152; discovered Megarian views 
in Plato, 218. 

Self-knowledge, the Socratic, 100. 

Self-renunciation, the, of the Cynics, 
268. 

Sextus criticises the arguments of 
Diodorus, 231. 

Sifting of men, the Socratic, 103. 

Silenus, appearance of Socrates com- 
pared by Alcibiades to, 71, 153. 

Simmias, a Theban, described by 
Plato as a philosopher, 209. 

Simon the shoemaker, writings cir- 
culated under the name of, spu- 
rious, 210. 

Simonides, illustrating the problem 
of philosophy, 19 ; his epitaph 
on Leonidas, 69. 

Sinope, the birthplace of Diogenes, 
244. 

Society, renunciation of, by the 
Cynics, 272 ; influence of Cynics 
on, 281. 

Socrates, age of, its inheritance, 32 ; 
characteristics, 42. 

— , Character of, 1 82 ; respected by 
antiquity, 63 ; supposed mental 
struggles, 64 ; purity, 65 ; ab- 
stemiousness, 65, 130: courage, 
167; composure, 167, 310; pious 
faith, 201 ; greatness, 202 ; simple 
motives, 131 ; sensible, 74; love 
of society, 67 ; love of friends. 
162, 178, 69, 134; imbued with 
Greek peculiarities, 69 ; abstrac- 
tion, 70, 73 ; not an insipid ideal 
of virtue. 66, 169; not a dry 
moralist, 89 ; many-sided sympa- 
thies, 41 : serious side in, 66 ; 
cultivated tact, 79 ; inward con- 



348 



INDEX, 



centration, 81; modesty, 60, 186; 
simplicity of, 288 ; consciousness 
of ignorance, 101, 102, 106; 
flexibility, 108, 333; inner life, 
80 ; strength of will, 248 ; im- 
portance attaching to his person, 
48, 95, 62 ; his SaifjLoviov, 75, 76, 
77, 78, 79, 80 ; his aim to train 
men, 97 ; portrait, 85, 204 ; his 
appearance, 71, 84 ; accuracy of 
Xenophon's description chal- 
lenged, 113. 

— , comedy on, 173, 181. 

— , contemporaries of, 155. 

— Ethics of, 117, 142; scientific 
y^loctrine of morals, 144; defends 
/friendships, 132, 133; utility 
highest standard, 141, 318, 320"; 
value of instruction, 188; high- 
est object of knowledge, the 
G-ood, 222, 223 ; the oneness of 
virtue and knowledge, 265 ; re- 
quire independence from wants, 
268. 

— , followers of, one-sided fol- 
lowers, 40, 41, 47, 202, 321 ; 
favourite follower, 238. 

— , language of, 127, 128, 132, 153, 
264 ; apparently ridiculous, 72. 

— , Life of youth and early man- 
hood, 49, 182; manhood reached 
before the Sophists introduced 
systematic education, 51 ; life 
begun in trade, 154; simple 
teaching, 196; personal habits, 
87 ; discourses, 154; society, 177, 
104; enemies, 174; attacks on, 
161, 173, 177, 178, 198; charges 
against, 178, 179, 187, 196; most 
fatal, 184; his trial, 179, 180; 
condemnation, 171, 172, 173, 
184; guilt, 184; fate, 200; 
death, 201, 243, 289; place in 
history, 152. 

— , maxim of, 206. 

— , Philosophy of, appearance at a 
philosophical crisis, 1 ; able to 
take a comprehensive view of 
science, 4; had no system, 43, 



130 ; system however called after, 
127; how led to the study of 
philosophy, 78 ; ground occupied 
by, 86, 205 ; understood the ten- 
dencies of the age, 93 ; breaks 
away from current opinions, 92 ; 
value assigned to them, 91, 107; 
opposed to doubting, 102; his 
leading object, 155, 160; devia- 
tion from original ground of 
Greek thought, 199 ; free inquiry 
of, 248 ; new mode ,of thought, 
152; did not discourse on the 
All, 112 ; explanation by analogy, 
226 ; a philosopher, 83, 86 ; 
philosophy of, 150, 1 ; few defi- 
nite opinions, 117; course at- 
tempted by, 124; method, 99, 
151, 206; methodical pursuit of 
knowledge, 89, 90, 103, 138, 219, 
318; general postulate, 99; 
theory of, 96, 97, 115; teaching 
and doctrines of, 47, 48, 82, 84, 
86, 129, 140, 264, 205, 209, 212; 
enunciated a new truth to his 
contemporaries, 134; convinced 
men of ignorance, 173 ; always 
goes back to conceptions, 110, 
111, 43, 45, 224, 251, 253, 316; 
overrated knowledge, 189, 220 ; 
introduced dialectic, 37 ; ideal- 
ism of, 38 ; brought divination 
within the power of individuals, 
80 ; view of injustice, 108 ; view 
of injuring others, 139 ; theory 
of proof, 110; chief merit, 110; 
philosophical greatness, 160 ; 
beneficial results due to, 95. 

— , Political views of 195; anti- 
republican sentiments, 137, 180 ; 
high ideas of the state, 135, 137. 

— , prejudice against, 173. 

— , principles of, developed by 
Plato, 138. 

— , pupils of, 178, 203, 207, 208, 
317. 

— , relation to the Sophists, 156, 
157, 158, 159, 170, 183. 

— , Scientific views of, 113 ; value 



INDEX. 



349 



of geometry, 112 ; seience foreign 
to, 115, 141, 180; relation of 
means and ends, 115. 

— , Theology of, Reason of the world, 
144; providence, 146; divine 
element in man, 147. 

— , Writings, number of, 82. 

Socratic philosophy, 321 ; asks What 
things are in themselves, 36 ; dif- 
ferent from what had preceded, 
35 ; features common to Plato, 37 ; 
leads to Idealism, 38 ; peculiar 
character of, 39 ; imperfectly re- 
presented in Socratic Schools, 47 ; 
scanty notices of, in Aristotle, 85 ; 
knowledge the centre of, 40, 89 ; 
disputes about the character of, 
96 ; irreconcilable with scepti- 
cism, 102 ; moral views of, 41, 92 ; 
comprehensive character of, 42 ; 
developed, 43 ; subjective charac- 
ter of, 95 ; tendency of, 181 ; two 
branches of, united by Zeno, 216. 

Socratic School, a loose association 
of admirers, 62, 206 ; a branch of, 
established by Euclid, 213; Cy- 
renaic branch of, 287- 

Socratic Schools, confined to same 
ground as Socrates, 35 ; doctrine 
of pleasure finds a place in, 129 ; 
friendship defended by, 133; foun- 
ders of, 211 ; inconsistencies of, 
332 ; followers of Socrates, 333 ; 
their importance, 335. 

Socratic dialogues, 153 ; doctrine of 
morals, 129 ; education, 208 ; Eros, 
105 ; Ethics, 205 ; idea of a ruler, 
207 ; knowledge of self, 100 ; 
method, 106 ; mode of teaching, 
205 ; search for conceptions, 44 ; 
teaching, 129, 151,211 ; view, 44; 
type of virtue, 66; doctrine of 
virtue, 118; conception of virtue, 
128; circle, 278; traits in Ari- 
stippus, 319. 

Sophist, Socrates taken for a, 177; 
meaning of the term, 157 ; Anti- 
sthenes in the capacity of, 243. 

' Sophistes,' the, of Plato, 226. 



Sophistic tendencies, practical effect 
of, 2 ; teaching, 160; influence of , 
views, 265, 288. 

Sophists call everything in question, 
1 ; Euripides related to the better, 
14 ; introduce systematic educa- 
tion, 51, 185 ; public teachers, 60; 
little dependence placed in, by 
Socrates, 61 ; dogmatism over- 
thrown by, 91 ; believe real know- 
ledge impossible, 92 ; meet the 
want of the age with skill, 93 ; 
recognise unsatisfactoriness of 
older culture, 94 ; caprice of, 95. 
9 6 ; destroyed the contending vi e ws 
of natural philosophers, 103 ; ig- 
norance their leading thought, 103 ; 
contests with, 110 ; moral philo- 
sophy of, 125; made education a 
necessary for statesmen, 138 ; tra- 
vellers, 4 ; impart an electrical 
shock to their age, 155 ; their 
relation to Socrates, 156, 157, 
333 ; moral teaching of older. 

158 ; draw philosophy away from 
nature to morals, 159 ; failure of, 

159 ; their hatred of Socrates, 170 ; 
did not take part in his accusation, 
170, 172 ; small political influence 
of, 171; Schools of, 185; per- 
nicious influence of, 185 ; rhetori- 
cal display of, 187 ; arguments of. 
225 ; among the friends of Anti- 
sthenes, 253 ; hold that every ob- 
ject can only be called by its own 
peculiar name, 251 ; required pay- 
ment for instruction, 289. 

Sophocles, illustrating problem of 
philosophy, 8. 

Sorites, the, of Megarians, 226 ; at- 
tributed to Eubulides, 228. 

Sparta, 196. 

Spartan education, 208. 

Spartan;?, Cyrus the friend of, 179. 

State, the, views of Socrates on. 
135-138. 

Stilpo, a Meg-arian philosopher : 
friend of Thrasymachus, 215; 
placed highest good in apathy. 



350 



IXDEX. 



236 ; his captiousness, 234 ; plau- 
sible, 240 ; rejects every combi- 
nation of subject and predicate, 
235 ; denies that general concep- 
tions can be applied to individual 
things, 220 ; an object of wonder 
to his cotemporaries, 215 ; learnt 
Cynicism from Diogenes, 215; 
united teaching of Megarian and 
Cynic Schools, 242 ; his free views 
on religion, 241. 

Stoa, Stilpo the precursor of, 216, 
242 ; took the Cynic principles, 
336. 

Stobaeus, quotes the words of Dio- 
genes, 262. 

Stoicism, apparently an offshoot of 
Cynicism, 247. 

Stoics, hold a standard of knowledge 
to be possible, 40 ; their luxurious 
apathy, 42 ; consider Socrates the 
inaugurator of a new philosophical 
epoch, 87 ; declare personal con- 
viction the standard of truth. 95 ; 
views of individual independence, 
131, 328 ; comprehensive system of, 
241 ; secure freedom by suicide, 
271; in advance of Cynics, 281,285. 

Subjective character of the theory of 
Socrates, 95. 

Superficial treatment of morals by 
Socrates, 126. 

Suvern, theorv of, on the scope of the 
1 Clouds,' 183. 

Symposium of Plato, 177; Plato's 
description of, 182. 

'Thesetetus,' the, 104. 

Thebans, Simmias and Cebes two, 
209. 

Theodore, called the Atheist, a pupil 
of Aristippus, 291, 323 ; not alto- 
gether satisfied with Aristippus, 
325 ; his pupils Bio and Eueme- 
rus, 292, 324; wontonly attacks 
popular faith, 314; considers 
pleasure and pain neither good 
nor bad in themselves, 325,328,331. 



Thirty Tyrants, 200. 
Thrasybulus, 178, 191. 
Thrasymachus of Corinth, 214, 215. 
Thucydides illustrating the problem 

of philosophy, 24. 
Timon, 239. 
Tragedians, illustrating the problem 

of philosophv, 5. 
Tribon, the, 269. 

Utility, the practical test of virtue. 
124. 

j Virtue, Socratic type of, 66 ; Socratic 
doctrine that virtue is knowledge, 
118 ; Socratic conception of, 128 : 
Cynic notion of, 263. 

j Wisdom and Polly, Cynic ideas of. 
266. 
Wolf, 182. 

Woman, position of, recognised, 206. 
Worship of God, 146. 

Xanthippe, wife of Socrates. 56, 135. 

Xenophanes, his doctrine of the One. 
237. 

Xenophon, 204-208, 148 ; a pupil 
of Socrates, 178: his account of 
Socrates. 65, 70, 74, 86, 112, 139. 
140, 150, 151, 153, 154, 155; his 
'Memorabilia,' 68, 85,110, 136, 
152; objection raised by, 72; 
writings of, 82 ; description chal- 
lenged, 113, 152; true, 129, 150: 
a nature, 115 ; agreement with 
Plato and Aristotle, 150 ; vindi- 
cated against Schleiermacher, 152 : 
Apology of, 1 72 ; reply to charges. 
188 ; proof of the reasonable ar- 
rangement of the world, 48. 

Zeno, the Eleatic, 54, 229, 230: 

criticism of, 225 ; line adopted by, 

226. 
Zeno, the Stoic, united two branche.- 

of Socratic philosophy, 216, 241. 

242. 



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